<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Faithless, the Wonder Boy by Radioheadgirl</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650434">Faithless, the Wonder Boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radioheadgirl/pseuds/Radioheadgirl'>Radioheadgirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Embarrassed Killua Zoldyck, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Killua’s family is really cruel in this one, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Protective Gon Freecs, Rating May Change, jealous Gon, jealous killua, starts off really precious but it will get dark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:13:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radioheadgirl/pseuds/Radioheadgirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gon and Killua’s first meeting at the young age of nine, and their (mis)adventures as they grow up together. </p><p>—</p><p>An AU that takes place within our world, where Gon and Killua are childhood friends who endure tragic and joyful moments side by side.</p><p>*this work is on hiatus, much like the manga after which it is based :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gon Freecs &amp; Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>146</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The First Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Gon Freecss often wondered about the grand but dark manor atop Kukuroo Hill. Though the town of Dentora was fairly large, the manor sat isolated from everything, with grandiose iron gates, thick green forests, and rushing blue streams hiding it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ever the natural adventurer, a couple of trees only gave Gon greater cause to explore. His skin was tanned from his explorations in the summer sun, his hair an inky black. Though, sometimes, the blossoming tree leaves gave Gon’s hair a greenish tint. He truly had the appearance of someone raised by nature.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And in many ways, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The woods slowly became Gon’s second home, as he learned of every plant and animal that dwelled in them. The yellow birch trees appeared especially bright in spring, while the maple trees became a myriad of warm colors in autumn. Gon was familiar with the fox families and baby fawns of the Dentora forests. Oak trees, with their multitude of gangly branches, were the best for climbing. The southernmost parts of the Dentora river were the best for fishing. And no region of the Dentora woods was better for exploring than that of Kukuroo Hill.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One summer afternoon, a nine-year-old Gon had managed to climb the tallest American beech tree in all of Dentora. His goal: to get the perfect view of the elusive Kukuroo Hill manor. Rumors about the wealthy family who lived there floated around the town frequently, though Gon Freecss and his family never paid much attention to gossip. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stay away from Mr. Zoldyck, he isn’t afraid to mix his business with those underground folks.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mr. Zoldyck... as in the </span>
  </em>
  <span>father</span>
  <em>
    <span> of the five Zoldyck children or... the </span>
  </em>
  <span>grandfather</span>
  <em>
    <span>?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve heard fearful stories about both. In fact, just stay away from them all.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Once, my daughter had to work with the eldest Zoldyck son on a school project. She said he was creepy and belittling.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve already warned my son to stay far away from anyone with the surname </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘Zoldyck</span>
  <em>
    <span>.’” </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, the young Gon didn’t know of these rumors, and he likely wouldn’t care about them anyways. Gon’s Aunt Mito had taught him that most gossip sprouted from lies or highly exaggerated stories. Gon was too honest to fall prey to that sort of thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take very long before Gon had reached the uppermost branches of the tree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His round, golden eyes widened. The sight before Gon — it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trees of all types and colors surrounded the manor, from dark evergreens to white American aspens. Cherry blossoms and magnolia petals drifted in the breeze, giving Kukuroo Hill a fairytale-like appearance. Flower gardens held thousands white roses and vibrant lavenders and lilacs. The flowers encircled the manor along with perfectly trimmed bushes. Every bit of landscaping was done impeccably.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And what lay behind the wrought iron gate and perennial blossoms was the largest house Gon had ever seen. A cobblestone walkway led past two gargoyle statues and up polished wooden stairs, where a door, of a height greater than seven feet, appeared. It gave off a sort of medieval vibe, with its arched top and hand-forged ironwork. The entirety of the manor, in fact, resembled something of a gothic chateau. The windows were many floors tall and ornamental. Bushels of deep green ivy curled around the manor’s stonework. There was even a second, albeit much smaller, house adjacent to the manor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon found himself having to resist the desire to get closer. To catch a glimpse of the furnishings inside — or the people who lived there. Fortunately for Gon, he didn’t have to resist for long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A soft, almost inaudible whimpering suddenly sounded. If not for Gon’s unusually honed senses, he probably would have missed it. Reluctant to look away from the manor, Gon slowly and carefully extricated himself from the beech tree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crying was coming from his left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon followed the sound with meticulous footsteps, quiet, to demonstrate his gentleness, but loud enough so that whoever was crying would be alerted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon then came to a burly oak tree with a dense trunk. He was positive that it was the location of the sniffling, and as he circled to the opposite side of the tree, he was proven correct. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Inside the hollowed-out base of the tree, a small child, probably around Gon’s age, was hugging their knees to their chest. Tufts of white, wispy hair hid the child’s face from view. They were trembling, almost imperceptibly. Gon approached slowly and cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you… okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The child’s — the </span>
  <em>
    <span>boy’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> — head whipped upwards. Two bright blue eyes locked directly with Gon’s. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They look like the ocean on a snowy day</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Gon noted. The boy’s skin was alabaster white, though marred with scrapes and bruises. Identical tear tracks ran down each of his cheeks. Gon didn’t understand why, he was only nine after all, but he had the sudden and overwhelming urge to hug the boy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, before he could do so, the boy whispered three words. Three words that would change both his and Gon’s lives forever. “Who are you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon smiled, “I’m Gon Freecss! I live on the other side of the forest! Who are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My n-name is Killua. I’m nine.” Killua looked at Gon’s feet as he spoke, too nervous to make eye contact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Gon smiled wider, “that’s awesome, because I’m nine too!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua dared a glance upwards, and he admired the way Gon’s eyes glimmered in the sunlight. Killua couldn’t help himself, or the warm blush that spread across his face, when the next words tumbled out of his mouth. “Your eyes remind me of sunflowers.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Gon replied, “your eyes remind me of the ocean. They’re so blue! But they’re sad. Why are they sad, Killua?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua’s blush deepened, and he didn’t know whether it was from the compliment, or the compassionate way Gon said his name. Whatever it was, he still flinched a little at Gon’s question. “Can’t say. You should leave.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon frowned. “But I just met you, I don’t wanna leave. Since we’re both the same age, we should be friends!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m n-not allowed to have friends. Besides, I’ve never seen you at school before.” Killua hugged himself tighter. He felt another wave of sadness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m homeschooled. But that doesn’t matter!” Gon paused and tilted his head. “Do you… can I give you a hug, Killua?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Record. Scratch.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua froze for all of five seconds, before sputtering as his face turned a vibrant red color… again. “Wha… what? Um.” He gulped. “If — if you wanna, I guess. You’re weird.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pleased by Killua’s answer, Gon skipped into the tree trunk and threw his arms around the silver-haired boy. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, but I hope that whatever is making you sad goes away.” Gon sighed. “You’re so cold.” He giggled. “And soft. I could hug you forever.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Weirdo.” Grumbled Killua. “But I could maybe hug you forever too. But only ‘cuz you’re warm. And you smell good. Like summertime.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two boys stayed in the tree, arms wrapped tightly around each other, for several minutes. They were mostly quiet, just breathing in the scents of each other. Eventually, Gon unwound himself and stood up. He reached out his arm towards the other boy. “Come with me, Killua, we can go adventuring together!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua, who had never been invited to do anything with anyone before, didn’t know how to answer Gon. So, rather than speaking, rather than thinking about the consequences he might later face if his parents were to find him missing from their property, Killua placed his hand in Gon’s and followed him through the woods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From then on, Killua decided he would follow Gon anywhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon was like summer where Killua was winter. The first and brightest light in the darkness that Killua had only ever known. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That fateful summer day, Killua played with Gon in the forest for hours. His bruises ached a little, and he gained several new scratches chasing the golden boy, but he was, for possibly the first time ever, happy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the sun began to set and both boys realized they needed to return to their homes, Killua revealed another intriguing fact about himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you live around here?” Gon had asked him curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmh. The old house on top of Kukuroo Hill.” Killua replied absentmindedly. His mind was busy growing anxious about what his parents would say when he came back home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No way! Are you serious, Killua? Your house is </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I could fit, like, one hundred copies of my house in yours!” Gon exclaimed. Killua looked startled. “You’re so lucky! There must be so much space inside to run around and explore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucky?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Killua wanted to scoff. “It’s not so fun to explore when you aren’t allowed to leave.” Killua kicked the dirt a little, wishing to talk about anything besides his home life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t allowed to leave? And you said you aren’t allowed to have friends… I guess that isn’t very lucky.” Gon suddenly looked very sad. Killua didn’t like the deflated look on the excitable golden boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-Well — I sorta broke both rules today.” Killua shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess we kinda </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>leave your — wait! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Both </span>
  </em>
  <span>rules?” Gon stared hopefully at Killua. “So you’re saying… that we… that we are friends?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Weirdo.” Killua scratched his neck awkwardly. “No need to get all excited about it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon, completely ignoring the last part of what Killua had just said, once again threw his arms around the wintry boy. Gon hugged Killua with so much force that the two of them tumbled to the ground. Killua landed on his back with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>oof </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound. “Oops! Sorry Killua!” Gon then realized that he was, quite clumsily, wrapped around the silver-haired boy. He giggled, and soon Killua was laughing too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t even know your own strength, Gon! Now get off me, there are burrs in my hair and it’s all your fault!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry again!” Smiled Gon, not really all that sorry. He scrambled off of Killua. “But I’m just really happy. Since I’ve always been homeschooled, you're kinda my first friend my age.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua’s cheeks, for the hundredth time that day, turned pink. His eyes looked everywhere except at Gon. “Y-You’re my first real friend too, Gon.” He mumbled shyly. Gon giggled and held out his hand to pull Killua upwards. Without hesitation, Killua grabbed it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we play again tomorrow? We can meet at the same oak tree with the big trunk!” Gon looked at Killua, eyes filled with hope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I might be in trouble, but I’m actually pretty sneaky, so I can probably meet you. Same time as today?” Killua asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah!” Gon jumped breathlessly. “Yay! I’m so excited, Killua.” Gon grinned, but then his face fell a little, “I hope you don’t get in too much trouble.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua shrugged. “It’s whatever. I can handle anything my parents do to me.” Suddenly, he brightened. “I’ll bring my skateboard tomorrow! I can’t do very many tricks, but I can teach you how to ride!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon bounced eagerly and clasped his hands together. “Oh yes! That sounds so fun. I’ll bring my fishing rod too. We can teach each other how to do our favorite things!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Killua smiled. Gon was unlike any other person Killua had ever met. Of course, Killua didn’t know very many people outside of his family and butlers, but still. Gon was special. “See you tomorrow, then?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you!” Gon gave Killua one last quick hug before jogging back down Kukuroo Hill. “Bye Killua!” He waved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua waved back, chuckling to himself. However, when Gon disappeared from view, Killua’s smile disappeared too. While he did often play in the forest around his house without supervision, Killua had never left his family’s property. Whether or not his parents knew he had left, Killua wasn’t sure. He would get punished either way, probably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though, as Killua trudged back home through the overlapping branches and bushes, only one sure thought remained in his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I want to see Gon again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was so fast, Aunt Mito! And he showed me all the best apple trees in the forest! And we’re meeting again tomorrow! And—” Gon’s enthusiastic babbling, which hadn’t ceased since Gon had arrived home an hour ago, was interrupted by Mito Freecss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gon! You still haven’t told me his name!” She laughed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oops!” Gon had the decency to look sheepish, before jumping right back to describing his new friend. “His name is Killua, and he lives in the big house on top of Kukuroo Hill! But he told me he hates his house, because he gets lonely…” Gon continued speaking rapidly about his new friend, but Mito had frozen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zoldyck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon’s new friend was a member of the infamous underground family. A family known for their cruelty and ill business practices. Mito’s first instinct was to grab Gon and tell him never to return to Kukuroo Hill again, to stay away from anyone who so much as </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Zoldyck’s. But Mito suppressed this instinct. Gon’s new Zoldyck friend — </span>
  <em>
    <span>Killua</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his name — was a child. A child the same age as Mito’s nephew, with what sounded to be the same energetic nature. Mito had withheld Gon from going to public school, and as a result, Mito realized she had withheld Gon from making friends. She didn’t know Killua Zoldyck, and Mito had always taught Gon to ignore rumors. If Gon wanted to befriend a Zoldyck, Mito wouldn’t interfere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, like any protective parent, Mito wasn’t going to allow Gon to continue playing with this boy before meeting him herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon was still recounting his day in excruciating detail when Mito spoke again. “Gon.” Her nephew paused his ramblings. “Why don’t you invite Killua over for a snack tomorrow? I can bake my famous double-chocolate cookies. I’d love to meet your new friend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon, oblivious to his aunt’s ulterior motive, smiled widely. “That’s a great idea! We’ll stop by after we go fishing! Oh, I’m so excited!” He jumped up, then raced into the kitchen. “I’ll set the table for dinner!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grabbing plates and napkins, Gon’s mind went straight to where it had been ever since he had arrived back at his house that day. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Killua</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Gon’s first real friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder what Killua is doing right now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gon pondered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Probably something cool</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The harsh echo of a whip being thrusted against bare skin was the only sound to fill the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walls were made of stone, along with the floor, ceiling, and only piece of furniture, — aside from the hanging handcuffs, of course — a simple bench. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room didn’t have a smell to it. Really, the room didn’t have much of anything. No windows, no lights, nothing. It’s sole purpose was for torture. Ironically, the victims of the torture were less likely to be enemies of the family who owned the room, and more likely to be the family’s own members. As was evident by the small, silver-haired child dangling in the air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It came as no surprise that the Zoldyck parents and butlers knew Killua had left the property. However, they were unaware that Killua had spent his adventuring-time with another boy his own age. And Killua would endure hundreds of more lashes to keep this fact a secret. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only a few more, Master Killua.” Murmured the tall, sharp-eyed butler. The Zoldyck family members were far too </span>
  <em>
    <span>noble</span>
  </em>
  <span> to whip their misbehaving child themselves. Usually. Today’s punishment, like most others, was done by a raven-haired butler named Gotoh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three lashes later, and the whip was set down next to a medieval torch. Killua sighed. He would be in hardly any shape to teach Gon how to skateboard tomorrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gotoh began applying healing cream to Killua’s backside, followed by bandages. The butler, quietly, began speaking to Killua. “Why did you leave Kukuroo Hill, Master Killua? You have been wise not to do so, until today.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua would never tell even his most trusted butlers the truth about Gon and their time together. So he shrugged, and answered Gotoh’s question in an entirely honest, though somewhat misleading, manner. “It’s boring and lonely, never being able to leave this place except for school. I plan on exploring more tomorrow, though I promise to stay within the Dentora Woods.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Master Killua, the punishments will only get worse if you—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care. It’s not like I’m running away or anything. Not that I could if I wanted to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The butler unraveled a roll of bandages. “Please, Master Killua, for your own well-being, stay within Kukuroo Hill.” Killua was silent for a minute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll speak with father about it. Alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gotoh stared at the maze of scars across the nine-year-old’s skin. No child, least of all the empathetic and lonely Killua, deserved what he went through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Master Killua.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not sure if I will ever finish this story, but I do intend on publishing more parts. I love Hunter x Hunter so much, and the dynamic between Gon and Killua has always fascinated me. I hope everyone enjoyed! I always appreciate comments and advice on how to improve my writing. Thanks all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Double Chocolate Cookies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gon talks with his neighbor, Killua receives good news, and the two enjoy many afternoons together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Even though they had promised to meet around lunchtime, Gon couldn’t help but wake up at daybreak. He had spent the night dreaming of a blue-eyed boy who lived in a house made of vines and tree branches. He had slept wonderfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The morning passed quickly as Gon busied himself with chores. Tending the vegetables in Mito’s garden, helping her set up her sewing supplies, and preparing two plates of eggs and ham for breakfast were all completed in a short time. A couple hours before he was supposed to meet Killua, Gon made his way to downtown Dentora to buy Mito the ingredients for her double-chocolate cookies. The sky was dotted with vast pearly clouds that reminded Gon of Killua’s hair. The quaint sapphire steams lining Gon’s path to down reminded him of Killua’s eyes. The little daisy patches reminded Gon of — </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gon, watch out</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” A low, feminine voice suddenly called. Unfortunately, they were too late, and Gon was ramming straight into a wooden mailbox. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch.” Gon grumbled, rubbing the sore place on his forehead. He then glanced upwards. “Palm!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so stupid, Gon. What are you, like, daydreaming?” She frowned, stepping in front of the nine-year-old boy and inspecting his injured spot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess I was, oops!” Abashedly, Gon rubbed his neck. Palm was only one year Gon’s senior, but nearly six inches taller. Her long black hair curled around her gaunt-like face, giving her a somewhat intimidating appearance. The two lived near each other (or as near as it gets in the open and woodsy part of Dentora) and had been close for years, though Palm rarely wanted to do anything with Gon aside from play dolls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave Gon’s face a light smack. “Well, be more careful, you foxbear. Whatcha doin’ today?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m buying some stuff from the town for Aunt Mito right now. You can join me if you wanna!” Gon smiled warmly. Palm simply scoffed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No thanks. That sounds boring. Just don’t be such an idiot all the time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Gon replied, “Okay okay, I promise I won’t. I’m just excited because I’m meeting my new friend later! He’s really cool.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Palm crossed her arms over her chest. She may not play with Gon very much, but she still felt protective over the nature-boy. “What’s your friend's name? And how’d you meet them?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His name is Killua! We met up on Kukuroo Hill, and he’s really good at exploring. He also has fluffy hair and pretty eyes.” Thinking about his new friend only served to make Gon more excitable. “We’re playing together again today, and Mito is baking for us! He’s gonna teach me how to skateboard and I’m gonna teach him how to fish!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon was enthusiastic, but Palm was… considerably less thrilled. “Killua </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zoldyck</span>
  </em>
  <span> huh? Well, he was in my class last year. He’s an outcast. Just warnin’ you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Certainly, Killua’s social-standing mattered very little to Gon, and he didn’t care how his new friend acted in school. “Killua is amazing! Anyways, I gotta go buy Mito’s baking stuff, so I’ll see you later Palm!” Gon waved at his neighbor before jogging towards the town. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Palm waved back, but her face was solemn. She was remembering the time last year when a kid tried to touch Killua’s hair, and ended up with a broken nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua’s morning went surprisingly well. Though he woke up feeling a dreadful pain on his backside, it was nothing a few medication pills wouldn’t be able to mask. The more intimidating thought was the prospect of hiding his scars from Gon. Killua also planned on speaking with his father in the morning, an intimidating feat all on its own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hallway from Killua’s bedroom to his father’s office was spacious and dark. The walls were painted a shadowy purple with a few drab paintings hanging in golden frames. Although Killua had four siblings and a multitude of butlers, the manor maintained a sinister quiet. Zoldycks were trained to move swiftly and silently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door to Silva Zoldyck’s office was tall and covered in protruding ridges. It matched the violet-colored walls that encompassed the Zoldyck manor. The door both blended in and stood at the same time. One might miss it if they were running quickly through the manor’s halls, though its magnitude proved daunting to many. Of course, it was not the door, but the discussion to be had with the person behind it, that was most daunting to Killua. He pushed his way inside the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And a chill </span>
  <em>
    <span>immediately </span>
  </em>
  <span>filled the air. A silhouetted figure was situated in a baroque throne-like chair in the room’s center. Symbolic and fear-inducing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the Zoldyck family’s current head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kil,” echoed a rough, baritone voice, “Am I correct to assume that your visit this morning has something to do with your… behavior… yesterday?” Silva enunciated with his hand on his chin, his tone unworried and patient. A perfect imitation of how a responsible parent sounded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty much, yes.” Murmured Killua.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speak up son, a Zoldyck boy does not mumble.” Silva then folded his arms — robust and tense as ever — and stared intently into the blue eyes his son had inherited from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Father,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>please allow it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “I would like permission to, um, to,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>please allow it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “To leave the grounds of the manor during the day.” Killua took a deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please allow it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I-I promise to stay within the Dentora Woods, and I’ll be home by supper every day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please allow it.</span>
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence that filled the room upon Killua’s request was grating. Silva did not react in the slightest, nor did he make any move to respond to his son. Killua, on the other hand, was trembling, though he hid it well. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>After many minutes, Silva spoke one word: “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um.” Killua struggled to find reasoning that excluded Gon. “I’ve already explored the forest on Kukuroo Hill, and I just, I dunno, want to explore more.” A faint smile found its way onto Killua’s face as he recalled yesterday’s adventures. “The river is really pretty too, and there are all kinds of weird animals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see. If you are bored, Killua, we can always buy you new toys. Or you can train more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, right, like I’d want to get beat up by Illumi more than I already am</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Killua wanted to laugh. “It’s more fun to run and play in the forest,” he said instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>More uncomfortable silence. Then, “Though you lack motivation, your performance in your training is impressive. And you ask for little. Well, little compared to your other brothers, I suppose.” Silva suddenly stood before his third son and raised his pinky. “Listen carefully, Kil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>The nine-year-old nodded. “I am, father.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Silva began, “I will grant your request, though only on these three conditions: one, you never stray outside the Dentora Woods. This means no visiting downtown or any neighborhoods. Two, you are inside the manor in time for supper, just as you’ve always been. And three, you must alert a butler each time you leave Kukuroo Hill. Should you fail to meet any of these expectations, and not only will your “exploring” privilege be revoked, but you will be harshly yet justifiably punished. Understood?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Killua wanted to dance. He could leave! Really leave! Immediately Killua thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I get to play with Gon again</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Though Killua would have snuck out to see his new friend anyway, at least now he can do so without fearing the consequences. “I understand, Father.” Killua replied, with considerable effort to mask his joy. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pinky swear.” Silva gestured to his finger. Killua held out his own pinky, and together they recited the promise chant. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>And the silver-haired boy began counting down the minutes until his day would </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>begin.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>— </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gon sprinted up Kukuroo Hill, fishing pole in tow, as he readied himself to see Killua again. From the opposite direction, Killua skated towards the bulky oak tree, where he expected Gon to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Simultaneously, the two saw each other, and matching grins formed on both their faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Killua!” Gon called, eying his friend’s skateboard excitedly. It maintained a bright yellow hue with a red arrow pointing vertically, the colors a contrast to the naturally dark theme of the Zoldycks… but perhaps fitting for the blue-eyed middle-child.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, Gon!” Killua replied, hopping off his board and catching it in one smooth motion. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa! That was cool!” Gon’s eyes, just as amber as Killua had remembered them, widened comically. The silver-haired boy laughed at his friend’s amazement.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a couple other tricks I can teach you too, Gon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!” The two boys high-fived each other, an olive-tinted hand meeting a pale one. Their lives were so different, so unique from each other, yet Gon and Killua both shared the same childlike enthusiasm that would never fade, so long as they were in the presence of one another. Some friendships were simply destined to form, and theirs may have been one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Killua peered around Gon and eyed his fishing rod. It had a smooth, wooden handle with a silver blank supporting its circular, red bobber. “So this is what you fish with!” Killua exclaimed. “I’ve never actually seen one before.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Asked Gon. “It’s not very hard, you just gotta be patient and think like a fish!” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think like a fish?” Killua echoed, tilting his head to the side in question. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gon nodded, “Exactly. Think about how a fish feels when it sees bait dangling in front of it!” Killua narrowed his eyes in disbelief, but decided to focus on Gon’s advice. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Gon grabbed Killua’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>And Killua’s focus went </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span> out the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Gon’s hand was warm, slightly bigger than Killua’s, and roughened with callouses — likely from all his time spent amongst the trees. And Killua made no move to pull away, because he liked the comfort he felt when connected to the nature-boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m taking you to the lake with the biggest fish, you’ll definitely catch one! Don’t let go!” Gon smiled at Killua, tugging him down Kukuroo Hill. Killua felt the warmth of his new friend’s hand spread throughout his entire body.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, as if I could ever let go of you, Gon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Fast forward a couple hours, and the two boys were on their way to Gon’s house. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>All in all, their afternoon had been pretty successful thus far.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gon had mastered jumping on and off the skateboard without wobbling, while Killua had proudly caught a rainbow trout. It was the most fun either of them had had in a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>The June Dentora sun managed to peek through clusters of green tree leaves and mangled branches, creating a glowing pathway for the two boys to follow. Occasionally, a fox or a deer would scurry past, and the boys would gasp and stare in awe. Much like their adventures the previous day, laughter and energetic bursts fueled their playtime. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Currently, Gon was perched on the front of Killua’s skateboard, sitting cross-legged and eager, while the silver-haired boy stood on the board behind him, pushing the two in whichever direction Gon pointed. The billowed past gnarly roots and fruit bushels, skating rapidly towards nature-boy’s home.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>The home in question was actually more like a cottage. It was shaped like a rectangle with two stories and ruddy shingles. The outside walls were made of a faded yellow beech wood material, and had square windows decorating them on all four sides. The land around the house was mostly open, with a small garden on one side and a clothesline on the other. Not far from the house was a thin river with a quaint stone bridge looming over it. Overall, the cottage exuded coziness and warmth — two words Killua had quickly come to associate with his golden-eyed friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gon’s house was barely a fraction of the size of Killua’s manor, yet Killua knew instantly that he would prefer his new friend’s home infinitely more than his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hooray!” Gon cheered, stretching the ‘oo’ sound in the word. He hopped off the skateboard. “We’re here! C’mon Killua, Aunt Mito made cookies!” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nervously, Killua stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed Gon.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>At the sounds of shuffling, Mito turned away from the oven and was greeted by her spunky nephew introducing his new friend. A moment later, a frail boy with pearly hair and skin to match it stepped into the kitchen, looking away shyly. Mito couldn’t help but stare, part in confusion and part in sadness.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is the Zoldyck child?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>This boy —this </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>— barely even brave enough to look Mito in the eye, was allegedly raised by the most ruthless and cruel family in all of Dentora. And, Mito supposed, it made sense. Just by observing Killua for a few seconds, Mito could understand his fear of adults — of any older, more experienced figures, and the tragedy that lay behind the Zoldyck child’s sky-blue eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Killua, meet Aunt Mito! Aunt Mito, meet Killua!” Gon loudly cut into Mito’s thoughts, and for that she was thankful. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Killua.” Mito greeted warmly, bending down to the nine-year-old’s height. “I am Gon’s Aunt, but you can just call me Mito. We are very excited to have you over!” She forced any lingering feelings of melancholy away, and spoke to Killua just as she would any other child living in Dentora.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, Miss Mito.” Killua replied softly. He awkwardly held out his right hand, presumably to shake with Mito’s, but the Freecss woman just smiled gently and shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to be formal here, Killua. Don’t worry.” She straightened. “Now, I hope you boys like chocolate, because I’ve got a fresh batch of double chocolate cookies waiting to be devoured!” At that Killua perked up, peeking behind Mito curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Gon exclaimed, bounding for the cookie sheet, racing to snatch the biggest one with the most chocolate chips to stuff into his mouth and ravage, to annihilate his taste buds with gooey goodness, to ingest the crumbs of — before he both physically and mentally skidded to a halt at the playful yet reprimanding look from his aunt. At this interaction, Killua burst out giggling. Both Gon and Mito froze for a moment, likely to appreciate the Zoldyck boy’s melodic laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mito spoke first, “Gon, you and your friend have been running around in the dirty and buggy forest all afternoon. If you want cookies, you need to wash up and set out plates and napkins first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gon nodded determinedly in response. “Of course. We will be on it!” He ran into the bathroom, Killua following in suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Mito seems so nice,” Killua sighed once the two boys were alone, “I wish I had a mom like her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s the best! Although she does nag a lot.” Gon grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>After the two boys had finished cleaning up and setting out plates, Mito presented each of them with a cookie. Gon immediately took a bite of his, moaning in appreciation. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is yuuuuummy. I could eat so many.” Mito and Killua snickered at Gon’s chocolate covered face. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly, Killua broke off a piece of his cookie and placed it in his mouth. And similarly to Gon, he melted at its rich taste. “S’real tasty.” He then shoved the entire cookie in his mouth, and messily reached for seconds. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glad to know they’re good!” Mito chuckled at the boys and offered them the rest of the cookie tray. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Once half the treats were gone, Mito lifted the tray out of reach and ‘tsk-ed’ playfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Killua hummed, “I’ve never had chocolate before, I think it’s my new favorite food.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gon tilted his head. “Really? You’ve been missing out, it’s so yummy!” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Totally! My family never lets me have desserts, and I always have to eat so many vegetables.” Killua mock-shuddered. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re just looking out for your health, Killua!” Mito asserted. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Killua shook his head. “Nah, if it were like that, they wouldn’t let my older brother Milluki eat so much junk food. Well, he’s a pig anyways.” The blue-eyed boy shrugged, and glanced over at Gon. “You gonna show me your room now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, the two were once again sprinting away together. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Mito was left to ponder over Gon’s new Zoldyck friend. The boy was the furthest thing from the nasty rumors she had heard about his family, though the way he spoke about his home life indicated that the gossip wasn’t far off. Specifically about his parents and older brothers. Killua, Mito realized, was just another kid trying to survive in a world that was working against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Upstairs, a room-tour-turned-pillow-fight had slowed down as Gon and Killua collapsed in exhaustion on Gon’s bed. Killua turned to look at Gon, a few questions circling in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gon,” he whispered. The nature-boy locked eyes with him. “Miss Mito… you say she’s your, uh, aunt, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmh.” Gon nodded, lost in a sea of white and blue. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So she isn’t your real mom?” Asked Killua.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, she’s my dad’s cousin, actually. But I love her like I would my real mom.” Gon focused on the pillow beneath Killua’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to your real parents? If it doesn’t hurt too much to answer.” Killua wondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s fine.” Gon fidgeted with his hair for a moment, before he spoke up again. “My mother died right after I was born. Complications from giving birth, I guess. After that, my dad just showed up at his grandmother’s house one day with me in his arms. Aunt Mito used to live with my grandmother on Whale Island, it’s not too far from Dentora, actually. And she was only eighteen at the time.” Gon paused, imaging what his aunt and father had looked like.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I didn’t realize how young she is.” Killua blurted. </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gon nodded, then continued explaining his past. “My dad basically gave me to my aunt and grandmother and then left. Aunt Mito says she’ll never forgive him for refusing my upbringing. And instead of going to university like she had planned, Aunt Mito chose to raise me. That’s why I’ll always treat her like I would my real mom. She has sacrificed so much to take care of me.” And Gon loved his aunt, and his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>Killua, somewhat unsurely, wrapped his arms around his friend. Something told him that Gon would be grateful for the comfort in that moment. Minutes later, Killua asked one final question, “How’d you end up in Dentora, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Mito was offered a job here. She works in a small boutique sewing and selling clothes on weekdays. I suppose it was hard for her to leave my great-grandmother, but we visit Whale Island every year.” Gon grinned, “I like it here in Dentora a lot, so I can’t complain much. And I met Killua!” Gon hugged his friend tightly, “My bestest friend ever!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>And Gon expected Killua’s reaction to his affection to be like it always was —a bright blush and the loss of eye contact. However, contrary to Gon’s expectations, Killua stared right back at him, albeit a new shade of red, but staring nonetheless. “Are we really, Gon?” He whispered. “Really… bestest friends?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Gon faltered a bit. “Um, well, if Killua w-wants to be, that is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>And the biggest, happiest smile spread across the silver-haired boy’s face. “My best friend, Gon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <span>And the golden boy glowed in return, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> best friend, Killua.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m fairly new to publishing stuff on AO3, and I apologize for any weird formatting issues.<br/>Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, it is super encouraging!!<br/>Not sure if anyone noticed, but some of Gon and Killua’s dialogue about the fishing pole and skateboard were reminiscent of scenes in the anime.<br/>Also, I aged Mito Freecss up a bit for the purpose of the story, if anyone is wondering.<br/>I always appreciate advice and tips on my writing, and I hope everyone has a wonderful week! Thanks all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Summer’s End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gon behaves unexpectedly, Mito discovers something more about Killua, and autumn arrives with an ill wind.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>One summer afternoon together quickly turned into multiple, until Gon and Killua were spending nearly every summer day adventuring with each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They always met up around lunchtime, and Killua had always made sure to arrive home in time for dinner and his evening training. Some days, when he and Gon were engrossed in one activity or another, Killua would lose track of time, and he would have to suddenly dash home in order to abide by his father’s conditions. Killua felt a bit like Cinderella, in this way. Though he was nothing like the graceful princess the fairytale described. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple afternoons a week Killua had tutoring, and he was forced to sit through afternoons of history lessons and writing practices. He missed his golden-eyed friend terribly on those days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On his tenth birthday Killua was stuck at home “celebrating” with his family, an event that consisted of receiving gifts and congratulations from strange adults dressed in pristine suits. Killua wasn’t very keen on large gatherings, they were really just a facade for darker business anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And of course, when Gon discovered Killua’s birthday had come and gone, he scolded his friend before baking him a towering chocolate cake. Gon did whatever Killua wanted that day, and the silver-haired boy felt happier than ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes the two boys would end up in Gon’s house, cooking or playing board games or reading. Gon didn’t care much for reading, he lacked the attention for it, so whenever his blue-eyed friend found himself wrapped up in a book, Gon would simply stare and appreciate his best friend’s prettiness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was it weird calling your friend pretty? Gon didn’t think so. After all, he always told Mito she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The best times were when Killua read out loud to Gon. His musical voice carried the lines of whatever book he was reading into the nature-boy’s tanned ears. Gon could only really focus when Killua was explaining stuff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Other times, Gon and Killua would be chasing each other with all kinds of sticks and rocks until one of them slumped to the ground out of breath. Then the other boy —the one left standing— would peer downwards, usually for a little longer than necessary, and celebrate their victory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything seemed possible when they were together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua!” Mito called one Sunday while she folded laundry. The Zoldyck boy stuck his head out from the pillow fort he and Gon were constructing and glanced around until he spotted Mito. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Mito?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Won’t you stay for dinner, Killua? We’re having fish fillets tonight and I’m sure you’ll find them delicious! Chocolate pudding for dessert too.” She winked, expecting and excited ‘yes!’ After all, Killua did love his chocolate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Killua looked… well, crestfallen. “I really wish I could, Miss Mito. But I gotta be home for family dinner. I really wish I could.” Sadness tinged with fear lingered in Killua’s voice, and Mito felt for the boy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s alright. How about Gon and I save you some leftover pudding, hm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua brightened again. “Thank you!” And in a blur of white, the boy disappeared beneath the fort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito, on the other hand, appeared contemplative. Each second she spent with Killua only gave her more and more suspicion about his family life. She knew the older Zoldycks weren’t… good people, per say, but she never would’ve thought them cruel towards their own children. Rather, she had assumed the Zoldyck children would be just as cruel as their parents. Perhaps Killua proved that belief otherwise. Or perhaps Killua was the exception.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Either way, it was accurate to say that Mito had been doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>of thinking about her nephew’s best friend as of late. And Mito prided herself on being an </span>
  <em>
    <span>expert </span>
  </em>
  <span>observer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The following weekend Mito made the biggest, and saddest, discovery yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun was sinking low and the sky resembled marmalade, a message signaling to Killua that it was time to trek from the Freecss’ household back to his own. Killua wore the same kind of long sleeved indigo shirt as always, despite the summer heat. Today it was covered in dried up mud, the result of Gon and Killua’s most recent adventure. While Gon had been quick to change into different apparel, Killua remained in his dirt-caked top. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, Killua, let me give you a different shirt to put on, you have got to be so uncomfortable wearing that! At least let me wash it!” Fretted Mito, eying the chunks of crusted mud covering Killua. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Miss Mito, I’ll change when I get home. I’m already running late.” Killua answered. He began to walk towards the Freecss’ front door, where Gon was waiting for him, when Mito reached out and grabbed Killua’s right arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the boy’s face </span>
  <em>
    <span>instantly </span>
  </em>
  <span>scrunched up into what looked like the most pained expression ever. He whimpered and ripped his arm out of Mito’s grasp, clutching it possessively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t grab him that hard, did I? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mito worried. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gon’s never been hurt when </span>
  </em>
  <span>—oh</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Oh no.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua…” She whispered, gaping at the boy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua’s eyes filled with water, only for him to wipe them furiously. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t touch me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He growled, his facial features blazing with anger and inexplicable hurt. Meanwhile, the pieces were falling into place for Mito —Killua’s reluctance to playful behavior around adults, his constant state of cuts and bruises that gave him far more pain than they should have, his long sleeved shirts in the height of summer— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua.” Mito said firmer. “I didn’t mean to grab you so hard. I promise I-I’ll never do it again, you have my word.” She then took a deep breath, because what Mito was preparing to say required strength from both her and the ten-year-old at her side. The strength to see the truth behind the child’s suffering. “I would like for you to show me your arm.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy’s response was immediate: “No.” Killua clutched his right arm tightly, his body tense and defensive, as though he were about to fight Mito. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, Killua.” She grew frantic. Mito would never force the boy to roll up his sleeves, heavens no, but the innate Freecss desire to stand up for those closest to them was quickly arising. “I understand that you feel afraid, I understand that there may be scars you’re unwilling to reveal but—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I said. No</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” The child shouted, weeped. Killua’s skin burned red with hurt, tears now pouring down his cheeks like rain. He didn’t want Mito or Gon or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> finding out about his failures, his ugliness. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They’ll hate me. I’m gross. I’m vicious. Illumi always says vicious people shouldn’t have friends. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I shouldn’t</span>
  <em>
    <span> have friends.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito was </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I want to help you, Killua, please understand! Just. Just do as I say, I won’t tell Gon or anybody I swear —” And then her worries were cut off. Because her nephew stepped into the room, at Killua’s side instantly, tensely. Mimicking the sort of fighting stance Killua had maintained earlier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Mito, what is going on?” He growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gon, this doesn’t concern you, could you please wait out —” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Gon answered, eying his best friends blanched skin and puffy eyes. The air dropped in temperature. Mito grew rigid. “Whatever you said, you made Killua feel upset and… and hurt. Really hurt. Killua doesn’t have to listen to someone who </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span> him!” Gon’s sudden and unwavering anger — directed at his own </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aunt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, grew steadily as he spoke. While Mito stood frozen in shock, Gon moved to stand in front of Killua protectively. “We are leaving now.” He muttered, placing an arm around Killua’s shoulder, his gentle touch a contrast to the anger in his voice. Killua did not flinch as Gon carefully turned him around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito gathered her bearings. “Gon Freecss!” She called, her tone now matching Gon’s infuriated one. “You stop this right now. That is no way to speak to your elders. I understand your desire to protect your friend, but I promise I was not doing, nor was I planning on doing, anything at all disrespectful towards Killua. There is something pressing I would like to speak with him about, and I am asking you politely to </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet her reasoning did nothing to appease Gon. In fact, Gon only grew more enraged. Mito had never witnessed her nephew behave like this before, and it was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>alarming</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Then why. Tell me why Killua is hurt!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He demanded. Mito’s mouth opened and closed. If Gon were in a calmer state, he would have laughed at the way it made Mito look like a catfish. He wasn’t laughing then. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me</span>
  </em>
  <span>! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody hurts my friends — my… my </span>
  </em>
  <span>best </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend like that! Not Aunt Mito, not me… Absolutely. No. One!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The nature boy’s vision was stained red, feelings of fury clouding his mind. His heart rate was increasing rapidly as his muscles itched for release. Mito had never before seen Gon fall prey to such uncontrollable emotions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when it seemed as though her nephew had reached some sort of breaking point, that he would suddenly lash out and do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> so purely fueled by anger, he stopped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For Killua was hugging him from behind, nuzzling his neck and whispering calming words into his ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gon.” Killua spoke quietly. “Miss Mito… she didn’t hurt me on purpose. It really wasn’t her fault, yeah? So take a deep breath and </span>
  <em>
    <span>focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon stilled, gradually growing more complacent in Killua’s silver arms. “B-But. But she still </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He mumbled, closing his eyes as per silver-haired boy’s request. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not how you’re imagining it.” Killua rubbed circles on Gon’s back. “I’m going to speak with Miss Mito for a minute, okay? So just wait for me outside. And calm down a bit. Walk in circles. Listen to all the animals. Got it?” Killua pulled out of his hug with Gon to look him in the eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon stared back at him, mesmerized. His tainted vision grew clearer as he looked into his friend’s shimmering eyes. The tightness coursing throughout Gon’s body melted away at the sound of Killua’s familiar and compassionate voice. “Okay, Killua.” He breathed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he walked away. Out the front door. Outside. Just as the Zoldyck boy had asked him to. Just like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And throughout this entire exchange Mito had watched the boys, flabbergasted and hurt and confused and… and impressed. Impressed by Killua’s delicate words that seemed to work wonders on Gon’s emotional state. Whether it was due to Killua’s inherent skills at comforting others, or Killua’s worth to Gon —or </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span>— Mito didn’t know. And she didn’t care. Taking a deep breath, like Killua had instructed her nephew to do, Mito forced herself to focus on the issue at hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon’s behavior would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>dealt with. But first, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Killua</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito fixated her attention on the silver haired boy’s hunched shoulders and tear-stricken face. “Killua. I don’t,” she shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t quite understand what just occurred.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Mito thought she heard Killua mutter something to the like of “I don’t think any of us do,” under his breath, but she continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First and foremost, thank you. I know you’re in a hurry, so I promise to thank you properly later. For helping Gon, of course. And I want you to recognize that what I was asking of you just then, and what I am asking of you now, is the same. I want to help you. If you feel distressed you can refuse my request, I will understand. But…” Mito poured all her remaining energy into her next sentence, pleading for Killua to acquiesce, “Will you please show me your arm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And surprisingly, the silver-haired boy complied, cautiously rolling up his violet shirt sleeve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Mito then saw was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wholly terrifying</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And sad. Very, very sad. A maze of scars ran from above the boy’s wrist to where the sleeve was bunched up. The scars… they were not the result of self-harm, that much was clear. No, they were the result of enduring torturous pain. Some were fresh, some shallow, some old, some deep. And all of them… awful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my child.” Mito exhaled. Her ragged tone matched her emotions. Mito threw her arms around the Zoldyck boy, squeezing him securely —though not </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> securely— and pressing her face into his alabaster hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She cried, tear streaks running down her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay Miss Mito, I can handle it. I’ve always handled it.” Killua stammered in reply. He wanted to cry too, so badly, but he held his tears in place for the sake of Gon, waiting outside, expecting him to be strong and understanding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Killua had not yet realized that this dynamic would maintain itself between Gon and Killua for years to come. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming with you.” Mito then stated, straightening her back and lifting up her chin. “You will not live with people who do </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she gestured to Killua’s arm, “To their children.” Her stance shifted from unyielding sympathy to dangerous contempt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t, Miss Mito,” Killua responded, equally determined. “You won’t… you won’t be able to change anything. And you gotta stay with Gon, right? You gotta care for him now. Okay?” The Zoldyck boy was distraught.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love Gon like a son,” said Mito. “And Killua. I love you like a son too.” Killua’s eyes grew with each of Mito’s words. “In these months you’ve spent with my nephew, I have come to appreciate you as his friend. You don’t… you </span>
  <em>
    <span>must know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you don’t deserve whatever these hurtful things are. These scars, the pain… you don’t deserve any of it. You know that, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And for a minute, Killua looked hopeful. But that hope was gone in a flash, and Killua turned away from Mito. Darkening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t come with me.” He whispered. “You’ll only make it worse.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Gon’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>outburst</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Mito had sat him down and attempted to get a grip on why the boy had so intensely lashed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that talk was </span>
  <em>
    <span>painfully</span>
  </em>
  <span> frustrating. Gon was unbent in his determination to protect his friend, and he asserted that if he were to go back in time and relive the situation, he would do the exact same. For the first time since Mito had held the raven-haired child, he showed no remorse for his misbehavior. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Things like anger management and emotional therapy filled the search history of the sole computer in the Freecss house. Mito had created a list of clinics and doctors in Dentora that could meet with Gon, though she decided she would only resort to therapy if her nephew had a second outburst. It was possible that the event was a one-time thing, especially since Gon had never displayed any anger control issues in the past. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito contemplated the influence of Killua, and perhaps his role in sparking Gon’s actions that night. It was unquestionable that the Zoldyck child was the reason for Gon’s protective anger, but did Killua have a negative influence on Gon? Absolutely not. The boy had been nothing but soft-spoken and eager around Mito, and with the way Gon described Killua, there really were no doubts to be had. And besides, if Mito had determined Killua to be a bad influence on her nephew, he sure as hell wouldn’t still be playing with Gon every day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito concluded that Gon’s emotional outburst was akin to any average child’s temper. Her nephew was nine, home-schooled, and did not have the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>typical</span>
  </em>
  <span> family. It would be weirder if Gon </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>throw tantrums from time to time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m blowing this way out of proportion. Gon got upset, unleashed his emotions like any kid would, and then calmed down. This is normal. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, with that thought in mind, Mito placed the issue on the back burner and resolved to enjoy the rest of her and Gon’s summer to the fullest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito ignored the fact that Gon never apologized.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Summer went by fast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>August had passed in a blur of water fights and treehouse building. Killua had done well to follow his father’s conditions for leaving Kukuroo Hill, and his best friend remained a secret to the rest of the Zoldycks. Mito could still feel the melancholy turmoil that filled Killua Zoldyck, but she chose to focus on lifting up the boy’s spirits, rather than exploiting his pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>School, however, presented a new problem. Fifth grade at Dentora’s private elementary school was no source of excitement for Killua. Gon, unfortunately, was still being home-schooled, and would be until the following year, so the Zoldyck boy would be alone. Not that that was anything abnormal for Killua.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two days before school was to begin Gon and Killua were lounging around in the Freecss’ living room, lemonades in their hands and a warm breeze wafting through the open windows. A sun-kissed hand was running idly through fluffy white hair. Killua’s head was propped in Gon’s lap while his legs extended across a well-loved but worn down couch. He would never admit it out loud, but Killua enjoyed it when Gon played with his hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killuaaaa.” Gon lazily grumbled, drawing out his best friend’s name. “Why can’t I just walk you home from school everyday?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I already told you, stupid. Because my brother will see you and tell my parents. Then my parents won’t let us be friends.” Killua pointedly took another sip of his lemonade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you said your younger brother is nice!” Gon exclaimed while giving Killua’s hair a sharp tug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He tells my mom </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>though. And sometimes Illumi likes to drive me home from school. It’s game over if </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> sees you.” Killua said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon lowered his head until his mouth was only an inch away from Killua’s ear. Then: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be so sneaky</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He playfully whispered. The blue-eyed boy cringed away from the sudden and uncomfortable </span>
  <em>
    <span>whoosh</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his ear. “I’ll hide so well that even Killua will have a difficult time finding me!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're such a weirdo!” Killua hopped off the couch, tuning out the whine from his friend at their loss of contact. “We can still hang out on weekends, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But that’s only </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> days! I can’t survive seeing Killua just twice a week!” Gon followed Killua off the couch and threw himself at his friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Killua heaved, attempting to wiggle out of Gon’s arms now wrapped entirely around him. Killua felt sort of like a tree ensnared in vines, its life slowly being choked out. “Get off me, you troll. Twice a week is a lot of time!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nooooo! I’ll cry everyday! Does Killua really want his best friend to cry?” Gon pretend-wailed. Despite Killua’s long limbs and physical abilities, he was no match for the nature-boy’s bizarre amount of strength. And so Gon remained latched on the blue-eyed boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not! Stop-stop! Too tight!” Killua rasped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua hates me! He definitely hates me. Why else would he abandon his very bestest friend?” Gon said, continuing to squeeze Killua. The two boys flopped onto the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so dramatic! God,” Killua groaned, “Would you let up for a sec?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And now he’s rejecting my hugs! Fine!” Gon huffed, rolling off the boy. The two were then laying side by side on the Freecss’ carpet, both panting heavily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Killua said after a while, “Maybe I can tell my parents that I’m tutoring another student and we can, I dunno, play for an hour or two.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon smiled widely at the suggestion, turning to face the silver-haired boy. “That sounds like a perfect idea! Killua is so smart!” Gon admired his friend’s ivory features for a bit, before saying softly, “And… Killua is okay with that, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Zoldyck boy’s exasperated grimace melted. He turned to look into Gon’s brazen eyes. “Stupid,” he muttered fondly. “I want… I want to play with you everyday too. You’re my best friend, Gon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon rolled right into Killua and embraced his friend for the second time that day. “I’m happy then. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My </span>
  </em>
  <span>best friend, Killua.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that was how Mito found them an hour later, fast asleep in each other’s arms. She quietly took a photo of the two boys. Right then, Mito somehow knew that Gon and Killua’s friendship would be an everlasting one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tutoring plan had worked out wonderfully. While Mr. and Mrs. Zoldyck believed their son was selected to help other students after school for a couple hours (a plausible story, given their third son’s intellect), he was in actuality spending that time with Gon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Autumn brought cooler weather, and fewer days were spent outside. Instead, the two boys hung out at Gon’s house or the local library. Killua found it entertaining to be in the library with Gon, as the outdoorsy boy was incredibly restless. He refused to read books unless Killua was the one reading with him (out loud, Killua would add), and Gon often was shushed or reprimanded by the librarians for squealing Killua’s name too loudly or running through rows and rows of encyclopedias and novels. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon and Killua had once played at Dentora’s local arcade, but a near run-in with one of Killua’s older brothers had deterred them from ever visiting again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>your brother?” Gon gasped as the two snuck out the back of the store. They were becoming pretty talented at sneaking places. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh.” Killua said. “His name is Milluki but I call him piggy ‘cuz he’s so fat.” The two pushed out the backdoor and began sprinting back towards the woods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> prettier.” Was Gon’s reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Weeks after that, on a particularly chilly Saturday, Killua found himself having the entire day free to do as he pleased. With a quick word to his butler, Killua dashed out the Zoldyck mansion and made his way to Gon’s house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was barely ten o’clock in the morning, and Killua was cheerfully knocking on the Freecss’ front door. Minutes went by and there was no answer, so Killua moved to peek through the windows. The lights were all turned off, and it appeared silent inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw c’mon,” Killua grumbled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The one day I get here early and they aren’t even home. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Killua thought ruefully to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Until his thoughts came to an abrupt halt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like the wind, the voice that suddenly rang out behind Killua was airy and light. Here one minute… gone the next. Unlike the wind, the voice that suddenly rang out held sinister undertones. An </span>
  <em>
    <span>ill</span>
  </em>
  <span> wind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kil.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kil Kil Kil Kil— </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was echoing in Killua’s head. The already pale boy was white as snow. Frozen like ice, unable to move even an inch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m… trembling? Why… Why am I trembling? I’m afraid? Why am I afraid? Haha. I can’t move. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The ten year old’s mind was spinning. Thoughts were colliding at lightning speed because </span>
  <em>
    <span>he can’t be here he can’t be here he can’t— </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is where you’ve been off to all these days, hm Kil?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illumi.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, a very ill wind indeed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So Gon’s birthday in this story is August 5th (not May 5th). Had to make it in August in order to avoid inconsistencies (oops!)  -__-</p><p>I don’t have a beta or anything, so if you guys notice any weird mistakes or discrepancies in my writing feel free to let me know!</p><p>Thank you readers for the kudos and comments! I hope everyone has a wonderful week! Until next time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Ill Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The ill wind sweeps across Dentora, Gon learns something about his best friend, and winter begins on a warmer note.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Slight trigger warning — there is a description of some particularly gruesome deaths and some mentally upsetting things at the beginning of this chapter. It is all clear after the dash indicating the end of the scene.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was no secret that the Zoldyck family was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>unique</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Everyone knew they had ties to the underground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But no one knew how deep those ties ran.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And they ran </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep</span>
  </em>
  <span>. On the outside, the Zoldycks were the infamous but unsuspecting owners of a large casino chain. The Dragon Dive casinos maintained locations throughout every city in the Republic of Padokea, and the popularity of the gambling dens has never waned. Extravagant bars and neon lights attracted the wealthy and poor alike, thus boasting a booming profit. All in all, the casinos were the perfect cover for a much more… </span>
  <em>
    <span>unsavory </span>
  </em>
  <span>business. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Killua Zoldyck had been trained for said business since he was old enough to walk. Before that, even. His training, which consisted of everything from subject-based tutoring to physical torture, was led by a select few individuals. Madam Tsubone, a bulky woman in her late fifties, took charge of Killua’s english and history tutoring, while Illumi Zoldyck, joined occasionally by the elder members of the family, trained Killua’s athletic and endurance abilities. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But unlike Madam Tsubone, who gave Killua a gentle reprimand when he did something incorrectly (which happened rarely anyways), Illumi would dole out painful punishments and torture methods. Whipping was the most common, and Killua had grown fairly numb to that experience. Poison tolerance, electricity torture, mental abuse… Killua had suffered through everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mental abuse aspect was, by far, the worst of it all. Cruel degradations dealt out by the oldest Zoldyck son had shredded Killua’s self-worth. Ten years of hearing about his shortcomings and all the things he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> deserve had placed a dent in the silver-haired boy’s heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One evening back in the summer, after spending the day finger painting with Gon, Killua had come home to find Illumi preparing a particularly difficult training session. Difficult, because it involved something Killua absolutely hated doing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killing people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lack of regard the other Zoldycks had for human life made Killua feel like an oddity. Like it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> to feel remorse after ending the life of someone else. Spending time with Gon and Mito had helped Killua realize it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his family </span>
  </em>
  <span>who was odd, not him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Gon and Mito didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the things Killua was forced to do as part of his upbringing. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>they knew… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, Killua wasn’t prepared to lose his first and only friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kil,” Illumi murmured, delicately placing a curved Ben’s knife in the ten-year-old’s pale hand, “Your mission today is quite simple.” The two brothers were alone in one of the many prison-like rooms hidden beneath the Zoldyck manor, both armed with polished weapons. Illumi glided back towards the room’s entrance, opening the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the sounds of terror-filled squirming were heard, one feminine and one masculine voice muffled behind what Killua supposed was tape or fabric. As Illumi pushed one, then a second chair into the room, Killua’s guess was proven correct. Two people were tied up and blind-folded, clearly unaware of what exactly was happening, but aware they were not going to live much longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illumi’s elusive voice rose again, barely there yet all-consuming. “One of these people will die at your hand tonight.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua stiffened. No matter how evil the person, Killua was sickened knowing </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the reason for their death, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the last thing they’d ever hear or see. That he was a killer, a murderer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Haruna,” Illumi gestured at the woman, who started jerking at the sound of being referenced, “Works at a clothing boutique and has two little children. A boy and a girl. Her husband is long deceased, and she is the sole provider for her family. How very admirable.” Illumi continued, almost off-handedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes…” Killua said, immediately thinking of Mito and the two women’s similarities. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Mister Bopobo,” Illumi nodded towards the extremely overweight man, “Is charged on numerous accounts of rape, armed robbery, and murder. He has recently been commuted to a life sentence in Dentora’s local prison.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, Kil, as you are still so young and naive, it would be in bad form to let </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>decide which of these people dies tonight,” Illumi’s charcoal colored hair swayed with his indifferent attitude. “So…” he trailed off, glancing between the two tied up people. “Kill the woman.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua hadn’t been in the homicide business for very long, but at the very least, his targets weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>good people</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They were filthy beings of the underground business, and this fact was the only thing that allowed Killua to sleep at night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Killua had </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He had tried to follow Illumi’s orders, but everytime the woman cried out beneath the fabric, all Killua could picture was Mito in the same situation. Helpless to protect her family. Helpless to protect </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...I can’t.” Killua whispered, gripping the Ben’s knife tight enough to create a dent in its handle. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will,” sighed Illumi, as if this were a regular occurrence, “Because you won’t like what happens if you don’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua had begun crying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The—The man! I’ll kill him instead.” He bargained. The knife slipped out of Killua’s hand and clattered loudly on the floor. Illumi simply sighed again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s strange, Kil,” the older Zoldyck said, “That you are gifted in so many ways, but still too weak to kill a single, insignificant, mother.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s done nothing wrong!” The blue-eyed child cried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>So</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Killua swiftly picked up the knife on the ground and turned to face the man who, despite being wrapped up in ropes and blindfolds, appeared </span>
  <em>
    <span>amused</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>weak</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kil.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.” Mind racing, with the feeling that he had no other choice, Killua crept towards the man with a snake-like gait. “I’m sorry.” The child whispered. Then he plunged the knife into the man’s heart, twisting it with a fierce precision. Some blood spurted onto Killua’s shirt, but he paid it no mind. Killing always had that sort of effect on Killua. An empty mind, devoid, hollow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illumi’s equally hollow voice rang out then, “That wasn’t what you were supposed to do, Kil.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You realize that you didn’t save Miss Haruna.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She is still going to die tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since you failed to kill her yourself… I suppose I will have to end her life in a far more… unpleasant way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The knife slipped out of Killua’s grasp again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m a killer, and a failure.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Killua was forced to watch as Illumi ripped off the woman’s blindfold and carved out each of her eyes, olive green pupils fading as they tumbled onto the floor, one of them landing next to the dropped knife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Killua was forced to watch as Illumi removed the woman’s clothing and used the knife to carve out a word into her stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Killua was forced to listen as her screaming overwhelmed the room. Every twist of the knife was matched by a wail so distraught Killua’s head hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even with the thick clots of blood pouring out of her, Killua could still make out the carved word:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>FAILURE</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pain eventually overwhelmed the woman, and her cries grew softer and softer until there were none at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re sleeping in here tonight. Perhaps seeing evidence of your inadequacy on Miss Haruna will teach you to be less weak when it comes to killing. Sleep well, Kil.” But the silver-haired boy hardly registered Illumi’s words. Hardly noticed the room’s door opening and closing and locking. He felt nothing but the burning stare of the woman’s eyes all throughout the night. He didn’t sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. The mental abuse is the worst of all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when Mito commented sadly about the disappearance of her coworker the following day, Killua stayed silent and hurting, wanting nothing more than to nap in the arms of his best friend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Killua thought that summer afternoon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is why I don’t deserve their care. I don’t deserve it at all. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chilly autumn Saturday grew even cooler as a new and unforeseen presence joined Killua outside the Freecss’ house. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A very ill wind</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is where you’ve been off to all these days, hm Kil?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blue-eyed boy forced himself to turn away from where he was peering through the Freecss’ kitchen window and face his oldest brother. “Illumi.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been wondering,” Illumi mumbled, his words twisting and twirling with the October breeze, “Why my little Kil was suddenly disappearing into the woods for hours a day. To explore? I suppose you’ve always been the curious sort. But even now, after school has begun and the weather has cooled, you are still vanishing into the forests with the same excuse as always.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Killua gulped, “There’s a lot to do out here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And so,” Illumi carried on, ignoring the younger Zoldyck, “Allowing you the entire day to do as you pleased, I figured you would do as you have all these previous weekends. ‘Play in the woods.’ Unsurprisingly, I was correct. However,” Illumi paused, spinning around in a completely serious manner, “This does not appear to be the forest?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, not… not exactly. But it’s still within the Dentora Woods so… I’m n-not breaking any of father’s conditions.” Killua replied, taming his shaking as best he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose not.” Illumi said. “But why are we at this cottage?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In that moment Killua was thanking every god he could think of because if Gon and Mito were home, Killua would be in a whole lot more trouble. And not only that, but the Freecss’ would be in danger as well. Killua was </span>
  <em>
    <span>well aware</span>
  </em>
  <span> his family was not above murdering innocent people, and if they deemed Gon and his aunt a threat to the Zoldyck legacy, well, Killua wouldn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua was also thanking every god he could think of because, just yesterday, he and Gon had found an injured fox. That fox was now hobbling across the countertop in the Freecss’ kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because of the fox.” Killua stated as though it were obvious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The fox?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh! There’s a fox climbing across the kitchen inside this house. I’m not sure how it got inside though…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silently, like a predator in search of its prey, Illumi appeared next to Killua, idly gazing through the window. “So it would seem.” He mumbled. “Of course, I do question why you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>knocking</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the front door of this </span>
  <em>
    <span>cottage</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua shrugged, “I was gonna tell them that there is a fox in their kitchen.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illumi looked… unimpressed. “I’m not sure father would appreciate you visiting random homes, within the Dentora Woods or otherwise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever.” Killua hopped away from the window and started walking towards Kukuroo Hill again. “If you’re just gonna follow me around all day I’m going home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is one thing I find peculiar.” Illumi mused, still rooted in place. “Why is it that, after leaving our manor, you made a </span>
  <em>
    <span>beeline </span>
  </em>
  <span>for this house? It almost seemed as if you had this specific destination in mind when you left earlier.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua’s steps hesitated, but took care to hide any other reaction from his brother. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a specific destination in mind. This house just happened to be in that same direction.” The ten-year-old mock sighed, tilting his head backwards slightly to look at Illumi. “Is there a reason for this interrogation? I’m allowed to enjoy myself you know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Illumi responded by sauntering up to Killua, so close the two Zoldyck’s shoulders were practically touching. “I just wanted to make sure you were behaving and staying out of trouble, Kil. It’s because I care about you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua snorted. “Right. Don’t stalk me the next time I leave the manor. You ruin the fun.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Illumi spared his younger brother one last look before turning in the direction of Dentora’s more urban sector. “I also have a job in town, so I suppose I’ll head there now. But Killua,” he called out, suspicion lining his words. This time, Killua really did freeze. “If I find you snooping around the house of some low-lifes again, I’ll ensure father rescinds all his promises to you. And I’ll kill the homeowners.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With another gust of autumn air, the ill wind vanished. And Killua wanted to hope that the wind would never return, but he knew how futile that hope would be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The same Saturday, Gon and Mito had bundled up in colorful jackets and long pants for a quick trip downtown. Quick, because Gon was expecting Killua to arrive at his house in time for lunch and an afternoon of painting. Though he tried to deny it, Killua was clearly very fond of the arts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Make sure to grab three pounds of red apples. And when you buy the sweet potatoes make sure they </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>have smooth skin!” Mito reminded Gon as they entered the heart of Dentora’s marketplace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yup! I’ll see you in an hour, Aunt Mito!” And the energetic boy skipped off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dentora was a bustling town during autumn, on every street corner there were food stands selling fresh harvests and small shops advertising contemporary winter fashions. Gon, though at his core a wilderness enthusiast, delighted in seeing all the townsfolk scurrying in and out of the stores and scouring the booths for goods. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I should bring Killua downtown one day! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought gleefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stand selling sweet potatoes was located at the far end of the market, and Gon found himself squeezing through alleyways in an attempt to speed up his shopping. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was it the brightest idea for a ten-year-old boy to dash around the back streets? No, not really. Was Gon going to do so anyways? Yes.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as Gon bolted around the corner of an ostentatious, glittering casino, a lonesome figure stepped into view. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Actually, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stepped</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t quite the right word for the figure’s sudden appearance. More like it </span>
  <em>
    <span>materialized</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of thin air. Tall, willowy, and drenched in shadows, Gon skidded to a stop and looked upwards with round, inquisitive eyes at the lithesome person. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>haunting</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But strangely, the boy felt barely an inkling of fear. His curiosity overcame that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pardon me?” Gon called out, his chipper voice echoing in contrast to the mood of the alleyway. However, the person standing in front of Gon paid him little mind. Instead, the figure’s empty eyes were focused on something </span>
  <em>
    <span>behind </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gon. At that realization, the golden-eyed boy whirled around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So they hired one of you folks, huh?” Came a scraggly voice. The target of the mysterious figure’s attention was a short man with a rotund stomach. “Go figure. They always gotta do things with style! Not like I’m any sort of challenge, get me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon felt like a rabbit trapped between two wolves from competing packs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” A lilted voice responded. “I wasn’t hired for a simple hit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuckers,” the stout man grumbled. Then his attention shifted. “Kid,” for the first time during the encounter, Gon became the focus, “Ever heard of the Zoldyck family?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon’s hands twitched. His eyesight clouded. He was reminded of the time many weeks ago when Mito had upset Killua. Only this time, Killua wasn’t here to calm Gon down. The need to defend his best friend — from what, he didn’t know — filled Gon, but he wisely said instead, “I’ve heard of them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All bad things, I hope.” The man laughed. “Listen kid, if you got any sense in ya, I’d run back to your mommy and daddy right now. You sure ain’t gonna like it if you don’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trembling, Gon replied, “Uh, y-yes sir. But… why do you ask about the um… the Zoldycks?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man laughed harder. “‘Cuz you can tell your mommy and daddy you </span>
  <em>
    <span>met</span>
  </em>
  <span> one. Now run along.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Gon did just that. He spared the two men one final uneasy glance before sprinting back towards the marketplace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Much later, as Gon walked home with Mito in a rare silence, clutching his potatoes tightly, one bothersome question filled his head: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Which one of them was the Zoldyck?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon didn’t see Killua at all that Saturday, and while Mito tried her best to comfort her nephew, he simply wasn’t his usual self.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, just as Gon was about to storm the Zoldyck manor all by himself, his silver-haired companion came knocking at the Freecss’ front door. It was a little past noon that Sunday, and Gon raced to answer it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua!” The door flew open so fast it banged against the house’s shingles. Gon hugged his friend. “I missed you yesterday!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geez, Gon. I swear, if you greet me like this everytime we see each other my ribs won’t ever work again!” Killua groaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did something happen? You said you’d be here yesterday but you never came!” Gon pouted, pulling out of the embrace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorta. My older brother followed me and… ugh. I just couldn’t come, okay? Let’s go have fun now that I’m here!” Tugging on his friend’s hand, Killua rushed inside the Freecss’ home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Killua’s older </span>
  </em>
  <span>brother</span>
  <em>
    <span>, huh?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon was unusually quiet. It didn’t escape his attention that Killua was avoiding the subject, but Gon hated pressing his friend when it came to family matters. Plus, after yesterday’s encounter with the strange men, Gon wasn’t sure how his friend would react. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon wasn’t oblivious; he knew that Killua’s parents were mean people, and that his older brothers were equally bad. However, much to Gon’s frustration, Killua refused to let on </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean the other Zoldycks were. Did they never allow Killua to do as he wanted? Did they not love Killua? Did they… did they </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>Killua? The former was certainly true, given Killua’s complaints about being “forced to learn the family business.” And the latter two… Gon couldn’t imagine not being loved by his aunt, and if Killua’s own </span>
  <em>
    <span>family </span>
  </em>
  <span>was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurting</span>
  </em>
  <span> him… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then I’ll find a way to free him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that resolution in mind, Gon settled in next to Killua in the Freecss’ sunroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you gonna paint?” The blue-eyed boy asked, selecting a cylindrical bottle of light bronze acrylic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking of painting a mermaid. My neighbor Palm really likes them and we haven’t seen each other in a while. She also likes presents.” Gon answered. “What about Killua?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I like presents too</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Killua griped to himself. Out loud, he said, “I wanna paint something really special today. I feel bad that I left you alone yesterday and… you’re really special to me so…” He trailed off. Gon blushed slightly at Killua’s words. It was rare for the dark-haired boy to feel embarrassed. Only with Killua. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Always</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Killua. “It’ll be a surprise, okay?” He finally grumbled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay Killua!” Gon giggled, “But it won’t be very surprising when you’re painting it right next to me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Killua tilted his canvas away from Gon. “There! And no peeking!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon simply smiled. “Whatever you say, Killua.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Refraining from telling Killua about his “rendezvous” in the alleyway was difficult for Gon, as the nature-boy was nothing if not honest and forthright. But Killua worried a lot, and Gon hated seeing his friend worry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that in mind, the memory was shoved away for the time being, and Gon and Killua continued their routine together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Autumn breezed by with no more disruptions. Winter brought even colder weather, but the two best friends took advantage of the snow. Gon taught Killua how to construct massive snowmen, while Killua led Gon sledding down Kukuroo Hill. Snowball fights became the bane of Mito’s existence, and she learned that decorating gingerbread houses with two energetic boys was a very </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On a different note, Mito made another discovery about Killua: he was very, very smart. Sometimes Killua would do his homework while Gon wrapped up homeschooling for the day. While Killua eased through high school level algebra, Gon struggled to understand long division. It was a blessing, really, having Killua around. The Zoldyck child was incredibly patient with Gon, and Mito’s nephew seemed to grasp things a hundred times better when Killua played the role of teacher. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua was especially advanced in the subjects of english and history. One evening in early January, Mito decided to inquire about Killua’s impressive knowledge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two boys were laying side by side and lazily working on school in Gon’s bedroom, each nursing a hot chocolate after making snow angels outside together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get it. Why can’t they just choose the job they want?” Gon whined, interrupting Killua’s narration of the nature-boy’s assigned book. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, Gon!” Killua replied. “They probably have to keep the jobs they’re assigned ‘cuz it prevents disorder and stuff in the city. People would fight over who gets the better job if otherwise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But it’s so unfair! And the mayor clearly doesn’t care about the graduates either. I’d totally get angry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua sighed. Reading with Gon often resulted in situations like this — some minuscule aspect of the story would frustrate the golden-eyed boy, and he’d get hung up on it for hours. “That isn’t even the story’s focus, okay? Can I continue reading now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Gon wasn’t finished ranting. “What if you’re like… </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing </span>
  </em>
  <span>at fixing things and then you’re stuck as a store clerk? All ‘cuz of that stupid draw.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone gets to choose what they wanna be when they’re older.” Mused the silver-haired boy. Then, wistfully he whispered, “I should know.” And all at once, Killua’s thoughts swirled back to his family; their expectations sat heavily on the Zoldyck boy’s shoulders, and there was nothing he could do about them. Sometimes he dreamed of escaping his life, holding hands with Gon as the two ran into the forest and played until the end of time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While the present Gon wasn’t exactly fit to save Killua from his current future, his brightness still came crashing down on Killua in waves. Always saving Killua in the moment, albeit unconsciously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua could do anything!” Gon smiled. He wasn’t looking at Killua, but rather out his bedroom window, daydreaming of all the things his friend was more than capable of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If only.” The silver-haired boy said, hiding his embarrassment under sarcastic grumblings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito had finished preparing two warm bowls of soup, and she headed to her nephew’s bedroom with the snack. Like most afternoons, she was greeted by the sight of the two boys huddled beneath Gon’s blankets, arms pressed against one another and soft voices carrying the words of a book. Mito hated disturbing scenes like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gon, Killua. I have soup for the both of you!” She finally said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As usual, Gon was all too eager to jump away from his studies. “Thanks Aunt Mito!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua nodded too, “This looks delicious!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After cautiously passing the boys their bowls, Mito turned towards the Zoldyck child. “You’re always helping Gon with his schoolwork, Killua. Don’t you have anything you need to get done?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged in response. “I finish most of my work during lunch. Sometimes I save history for tutoring.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve mentioned your tutoring before. Is that the reason why you’re so advanced in school?” Mito couldn’t help but ask. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno. Maybe. Mostly my parents want me to have an ‘extensive knowledge of our world’s histories and an eloquent voice for professional manners.’ It’s all pretty dumb if you ask me.” Killua mock-quoted heedlessly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see. Well, I suppose I agree with you that tutoring is a bit dumb. But only because you are a naturally intelligent boy, Mister Killua.” Mito teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about me, Aunt Mitoooo?” Gon cut in, dramatically stretching out the vowels in Mito’s name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A tutor would do you good!” She retorted. “Luckily we have a great one right here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua grinned sharply and stuck out his chin. “Yeah, I’m the best of the best.” Gon burst out laughing at how goofy his friend sounded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh. Last week you tried to trick me into believing that the Great Continent War was started because of mutant ants eating all the humans!” Gon playfully tugged at Killua’s hair. “Some tutor you are!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Owww Gon! I already said I was sorry for that!” Killua reached his arms around Gon’s waist and flipped him over on the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nature boy huffed and squirmed beneath his friend. “Yeah but you couldn’t stop giggling while you apologized!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s not my fault you actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>believed </span>
  </em>
  <span>me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re my best friend! Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would believe you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then as my best friend you should —” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boys!” Mito interjected, halting their fighting. “Stop this right now! Someone’s knocking at our door, so hush up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito was proud of the fact that she could be pretty terrifying when she set her mind to it. Gon and Killua got quiet quite fast after that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Mito left to greet whoever was at the door, Gon raced to his window to peek outside. Standing on his front porch, bundled up in a thick coat and multiple scarves, was Palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s Palm.” He voiced aloud, mainly for Killua’s benefit.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>mermaid</span>
  </em>
  <span> girl?” Killua said disdainfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yup. I wonder why she’s here?” Gon pondered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Killua squeezed next to Gon and followed his gaze to where a tall woman with inky hair was waiting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And why is she clutching a suitcase?” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don’t wanna set anything in stone... but it seems Wednesdays have become my (un)official update-date for this fic.</p><p>Aaaand I finally figured out how to post chapters properly, lol. I’ve been reading on AO3 for so long but my justification is that this is only my second time attempting to post my own work. </p><p>Hope everybody enjoyed this chapter! It has been the most difficult to write thus far. I’m not sure if this story is too intense or not intense enough... and nothing super ~romantic will happen for a couple more chapters. Loads of fluff (and some angst) will be coming soon though! Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments, and I hope you all have a wonderful week! Until next time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Winter Discovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mito and Gon have a prolonged visitor, a prank gets out of hand, and Gon sees something he was never meant to.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Palm!” Mito greeted warmly, albeit surprised at the sudden visit. “Come inside, it’s frigid out there.” After situating the eleven-year-old at the Freecss’ dining table, Mito poured an extra mug of hot cocoa and bowl of soup for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Miss Freecss.” Palm said solemnly. Little flakes of snow had melted in her tangled locks of hair, fashioning her to look like some sort of wintry Siberian fairy. Fitting, given her last name. For an awkward few moments, the only sound in the kitchen was Palm slurping Mito’s soup desultorily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish,” Mito began, “But I would like to know what caused this impromptu visit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The raven-haired girl jerkily paused her soup-sipping and made eye contact with Mito. “Father left on another business trip.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, those must be hard. And your mother?” Mito didn’t know the Siberia family all that well, considering they lived closer to the Freecss’ than anyone else. What Mito </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> aware of was that Mr. and Mrs. Siberia were extremely independent, unobtrusive people. In fact, she had only ever spoken with the distant couple once. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, actually, mother is the reason I’m here.” Palm mumbled, avoiding eye contact again. Her attempt at nonchalance didn’t fool Mito. She had been around Killua long enough to easily see through false indifference. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it became clear Palm wasn’t planning on speaking again, Mito sighed and spoke up. “You’re going to have to elaborate a little more, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, um... mother’s been drinking a lot, and father isn’t here to help her — or me — so, yeah. And um, Gon has always said I’m welcome here whenever, and mother isn’t… mother can’t…” Palm trailed off as Mito pulled her in for a hug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Palm. I understand. And my nephew was correct — you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>welcome here.” Mito allowed the girl a few moments to collect herself before asking, “How long is your father away for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About a month.” Palm replied sniffling, though stubbornly refusing to shed tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then it sounds like Gon will be enjoying some extra playtime for the next thirty days!” Mito smiled. “Why don’t you stay in our extra bedroom until your father comes back? Gon can walk you to school every morning, and we can check up on your mother and bring her some leftover dinner each night.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At last, the inky-haired girl had begun crying. Though rather than tears of loneliness, they were tears of gratitude. “That sounds p-perfect. Thank you Miss Freecss. I don’t know how I can repay you. Father says that the only way to pay for an act of kindness is by paying it </span>
  <em>
    <span>forward</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I’m not really sure what that means. Actually, that probably explains why father always took me on walks under bridges. Said that ‘helping the homeless’ is a good way to express thankfulness. And the people who lived under bridges always gave me cool knives and said ‘yerr gonna need ‘em one day lady’ so they were probably expressing their thankfulness too. But after I told father about the knives he decided we shouldn’t—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay!” Mito laughed, selectively choosing to ignore the part about Palm being given </span>
  <em>
    <span>knives</span>
  </em>
  <span> from people living under bridges. “Your father is right. Perhaps next week you, me, and Gon could all volunteer at Dentora’s homeless shelter together! It’s a wonderful way to pay it forward, and all those poor men and women are probably struggling extra with this cold weather we’ve been having.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Father will be so proud. I love making my father proud, because he always rewards me with hugs and kisses and sometimes gifts like dolls and dollhouses for me to play with because he knows that I love—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Paaaaalm!” A boisterous voice squealed, abruptly cutting into another of Palm’s monologues. Both women spun around just in time to see Gon trip over himself racing into the kitchen, a blur of dark hair and golden limbs. “Ah, oopsies.” He chuckled abashedly, then leapt upwards and wrapped himself around Palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something told Mito that her little nature-boy and his frosty best friend had been eavesdropping. Mito made a note to scold them both later on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re always falling down and running into things around me!” Palm tsked, shimmying out of Gon’s over-eager hug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps you make Gon nervous.” Mito giggled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> make Gon nervous?” Palm questioned, genuine confusion coloring her otherwise colorless face. Palm reminded her of Killua in that manner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes, when a person has a crush on another person, they feel nervous butterflies in their stomachs.” Mito answered matter-of-factly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Palm sputtered. “A crush? On </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Oh oh oh…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oblivious to Palm’ sudden turmoil, Gon bluntly stated, “I guess I must be extra clumsy then, because I don’t have a crush on Palm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This boy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mito thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Will break many hearts when he’s older.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seconds later, another ten-year-old popped into the kitchen. Except this one had white hair and much </span>
  <em>
    <span>calmer </span>
  </em>
  <span>demeanor. Gon’s attention immediately — and </span>
  <em>
    <span>unsurprisingly </span>
  </em>
  <span>— focused on Killua.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or perhaps just one</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua meet Palm! Palm meet Killua!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yo.” The Zoldyck boy nodded. Palm ignored him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need not introduce us to each other Gon. I told you, we had class together last year. Though albino-boy over there was likely too </span>
  <em>
    <span>aloof </span>
  </em>
  <span>to notice. Actually, I’ve probably known Killua longer than you have.” The inky-haired girl glared. Gon frowned but didn’t comment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did we?” Killua asked, acidity filling his tone, “I feel like I would have remembered someone like </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Palm all but growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito could see this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>going in a positive direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A creepy doll-lover like you surely would have made a stronger impression—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I am</span>
  </em>
  <span> creepy?” Palm stalked over to the boy. “You’re the </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, not a positive direction at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gon—</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> say that to Killua.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? The Zoldyck misfit insulted </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> first!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Children!” Mito shouted. “If the three of you are just going to argue I’m sending Killua home and you two to your rooms.” She crossed her arms pointedly, as if to solidify her threats. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He has to say sorry.” Palm stated, gesturing disdainfully in Killua’s direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You both need to say sorry. Gon, you too, for raising your voice.” Mito said exasperatedly. And only after the three kids begrudgingly offered their apologies did Mito explain Palm’s new living arrangement (though she suspected Killua and Gon already knew about it). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua can still come play though, right?” Gon asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Mito affirmed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then it’ll be totally fun! Like a super long sleepover!” And like that, the golden boy’s attitude reverted to its typical happy-go-lucky nature. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s strange</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Mito thought to herself that night, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seeing Gon’s mood change from one extreme to another so quickly. He’s just a kid though. It’s probably the result of growing up. Probably</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito could only hope she was right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The following afternoon, while Palm was at school, Mito decided it was time to have a talk with Gon. To clarify some things regarding Palm’s stay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two were tucked together in the small sewing room perched above the boutique Mito worked at. During the school year, while Mito worked, the store’s owners kindly allowed Gon to hang around and complete his school. At the time, Mito’s boss probably didn’t know the Freecss child would be a restless bundle of energy, but who did, honestly? And besides, customers were </span>
  <em>
    <span>constantly</span>
  </em>
  <span> charmed by Gon’s bright smile and enthusiasm. Mito’s boss should add </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the payroll.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mito took a deep breath before addressing her nephew. “Gon, do you understand why exactly Palm is staying with us?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Cuz Mr. Siberia is on a work trip.” He replied, not glancing away from his worksheet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s true, but you’re aware Mrs. Siberia is… still living at Palm’s house?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Err… I did hear her say that…” Gon looked up from his work then. Mito took his focus (a rare thing indeed) as a signal to continue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mrs. Siberia is a little sick right now.” She said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like the flu?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of sick. It’s…” Mito struggled to explain it. “I suppose you’re old enough to learn about this kind thing.” She muttered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is she in the hospital sick? Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>cancer</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Gon exclaimed, suddenly feeling very worried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no.” Mito shook her head and Gon breathed a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then what kind of sick? I’m confused.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s more of an unstable sort of sickness. Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>mind</span>
  </em>
  <span> is sick.” And slowly, empathetically, but in an abbreviated way the ten-year-old would understand, Mito explained the difficulties and dangers that brought about the struggles of Palm’s mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does that mean Mrs. Siberia is a bad mom?” Gon wondered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, not at all. But it is important to seek help should we ever find ourselves in that sort of situation. Mr. Siberia helps. Well, I’d hope so.” It was then that Mito realized she didn’t know very much at all about Palm’s family. Mito had never felt any particular desire to get to know them, but with Palm staying at Mito’s own house, Mito did feel some sense of obligation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Mrs. Siberia is as strong as her daughter, then I’m sure she’s getting better!” Gon thereupon nodded. “And Palm will be happy with us!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah yes, her nephew’s perpetual optimism. Mito often found herself admiring Gon’s ability to make everything seem alright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And for a few minutes, Gon was silent, seemingly lost in thought. Then, precipitously, the nature-boy asked, “Is that the same as Killua’s parents?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything comes back to that kid, doesn’t it?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mito thought wryly. Aloud, she said, “No. Well, not that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> know of.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why does everyone say Killua’s family is bad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s unbecoming to listen to gossip, Gon. And that’s something you should ask Killua about, not me.” Mito busied herself with the blouse she was sewing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But everytime I bring it up, Killua changes the subject or gives super vague answers. I just wanna help him!” His voice rose and Mito quickly shushed him. Gon could be extremely observant when he wanted to, she noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Patience. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell you when he’s ready. Killua is your best friend, yeah?” The confidence with which Mito said this did not reflect how she truly felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… you’re right, Aunt Mito.” Gon replied, somewhat reluctantly. “Killua is really smart, so he probably knows best anyways.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh. Probably.” Mito whispered. There seemed to be a lot of ‘probablys’ in Mito’s life lately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ensuing weeks passed by in a hilarious series of incidents between Gon, Killua, and Palm. More often than not, Gon found himself in the middle of some pretty argument between the latter two. And more often than not, Gon sided with his mischievous best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two best friends also discovered a new favorite pastime: pranks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again and again, poor Palm ended up as the subject of many of these. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, after days of relentlessly being made a fool, Palm had decided to retaliate. And when Palm Siberia </span>
  <em>
    <span>retaliates</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she does not do so lightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remember the knives? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pass me the rubber band.” Killua said, holding out his hand to Gon. Hastily, the silver-haired boy wrapped the band around the trigger below the sink in the Freecss’ sole bathroom. After finding out said sink had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sprayer</span>
  </em>
  <span>, well, it only seemed like fate. Palm, in the meantime, was otherwise occupied baking with Mito. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killuaaaa,” Gon whined, dragging out his best friend’s name, “Don’t you think we’ll get in big trouble for this one? I’m a little nervous.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distractedly, Killua replied, “Nah, it’s a pretty harmless prank. Just a lot of… water. Water can’t hurt anybody.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It can if you’re drowning.” Gon pointed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>drowning </span>
  </em>
  <span>Palm!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Killua were drowning I would save him.” Gon mumbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jeez Gon, don’t say such dark things!” Killua sputtered. In his head, he recalled Illumi’s torture ‘training’ that required Killua to hold his breath for numerous minutes at a time. Killua shivered, a movement that did not go unnoticed by Gon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay, Killua?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just thinking that maybe I’m a little nervous too. But it’s gonna be so funny when Palm gets sprayed!” He answered, a bit too quickly for Gon’s liking. Nevertheless, Gon dropped the subject and the two finished the planning of their prank. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>boy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, were the results rewarding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although the door was closed, Gon and Killua knew the exact </span>
  <em>
    <span>instant</span>
  </em>
  <span> Palm was hit by the spray. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“EUUAAHHHHH!” A dynamo of distress and volatile anger came all at once, and it was unclear whether the house shook from the sudden release of water or from Palm’s voice alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The screaming sent Mito racing upstairs, while Gon and Killua collapsed into fits of uncontrollable laughter. The contrasting sounds alerted Mito of exactly what had happened. “What’ll it be this time?” She grumbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“KILLUA ZOLDYCK IS THE MOST CATASTROPHIC PERSON I HAVE EVER KNOWN!” Palm screeched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why am I the only one she ever bashes?” Killua moaned from Gon’s bedroom while the golden boy’s giggling grew even more infectious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I WILL GUT YOU ALBINO FREAK!” Palm thrusted open the bathroom door — the sink still shooting water everywhere — and stomped towards her own room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which, Mito should have realized earlier, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> Palm simply hiding and pouting. No. Palm was gathering her </span>
  <em>
    <span>arsenal</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Turning off the sink, Mito marched into her nephew’s bedroom and grabbed both ten-year-olds by the ear. “You two have been nothing but trouble for Palm, and it’s about damn time I deal out some consequences.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, were those consequences coming. Back in the guest room, Palm erratically tucked a myriad of knives into her pockets before making her way towards the unfortunate boys who had chosen to prank her that winter day. “FACE ME, KILLUA!” She howled, physically shoving (yes, literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>shoving</span>
  </em>
  <span>) Mito to the side and snatching Killua’s shirt in her spindly fingers. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Prepare to regret having been born</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Palm! Calm—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Hey! </span><em><span>Don’t</span></em> <em><span>touch</span></em> <em><span>KILLUA</span></em><span>!” </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can easily take this </span>
  <em>
    <span>witch</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“SILENCE!” Palm’s unpredictable tone demanded. “I have suffered unimaginable pain at the hands of this disgusting, vile little creature here. You have corrupted my darling neighbor Gon, and painted his hands with the blood of your crimes. I shall ensure you burn in hell for all eternity—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alright, what the hell?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is enough!” Mito warned, shaking with the effort to hold Gon back. Killua, meanwhile, appeared unusually troubled by Palm’s nonsensical speech. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Palm ignored Mito and continued. “Because you deserve nothing. My third aunt is a great and powerful occultist who knows of many magical spells that will curse your body and soul and bring about misery to you and those whom you surround yourself with. I’ll have you know that when I was younger, before my father decided Aunt Gullveig was a ‘bad influence,’ I was taught much of my aunt’s powers and I know how to…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed that nothing relaxed the victims of Palm’s acrimony better than Palm’s own ramblings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...I once summoned a black cat under the full moon’s light that heightened my…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Boy, did that girl know how to veer off topic.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mito ruminated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...So, to solidify your demise, Killua of House Zoldyck, my knife shall now burry itself into your lifeless entity—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a psycho!” Killua barked. Then the silver-haired boy twisted his body out of Palm’s grasp. To the shock (and suppressed amazement) of everyone else, Killua used his elbow to knock the knife flying out of Palm’s palm and flipped backwards. “Don’t ever come near me again.” He growled. And with a speed that felt more magical than Palm’s witch story, Killua sprinted out of Gon’s bedroom and away from the Freecss’ house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too stunned to say anything, Gon, Mito, and Palm all stood motionless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the nature-boy spoke up in an awed whisper. “Killua is incredible.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither Mito nor Palm could find the words to disagree with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the surreal incident two days before, Killua had not returned to Gon’s house. Even stranger so, Palm reported that the boy was absent from school too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>positive</span>
  </em>
  <span> Killua wasn’t there?” Gon asked frantically. “You aren’t even in his class this year so maybe they just lied and—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>positive,</span>
  </em>
  <span> foxbear. I even snuck a peak at the attendance sheet from his class. In my opinion, Killua is too scared of me to be anywhere near my presence. That is obviously why he is absent.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for scaring him off then! I hate you Palm!” Gon impulsively shouted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gon Freecss!” Mito’s voice cut in heavily. She was beginning to regret ever having Palm stay over. That girl brought more trouble than she was worth sometimes. Although a lot of Mito’s exasperation had stemmed from Gon and Killua’s constant teasing. “Apologize to Palm. If Killua is absent from school, Palm isn’t the one to blame.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then who </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>to blame?” Gon exclaimed, tugging a loose string from his sweater aggressively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His parents, perhaps? Or he could be sick. We can’t just go around accusing people when we don’t have all the facts, Gon.” Mito scolded. “Now tell Palm you’re sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry Palm.” Gon mumbled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Mito sighed. “Today we are supposed to be charitable, so lets stop with this downtrodden attitude.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a snowy Saturday morning. The end of January was rapidly approaching, and with it came the date Mito and Palm had decided upon to volunteer at Dentora’s homeless shelter. With Gon in tow, the three drove south to downtown Dentora. Heavy flakes of snow decorated the streets while young children built snowmen and danced in the light snowfall. Gon was reminded of Killua, and he desperately wanted to join the other children and create snowmen of his own with his best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We will primarily be stocking and packing boxes of food today.” Mito said in the car. Gon and Palm nodded along to her instruction. Despite his best friend’s unexplained absence, Gon was in an excited mood. He and Mito had only ever volunteered at the animal hospital before, so this was a new experience. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will we get to deliver the food to the families in need?” Gon inquired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not today, but perhaps we could do that another time.” Said Mito, pulling the car into the shelter's parking lot. The three made their way through the dusting of snow and into the shelter. It was an antiquated but grand place, with two stories and a barn-like roof. The muted blue of the building gave it a comforting aura, and the same color scheme was utilized throughout the shelter’s interior. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even though we aren’t packaging the actual food, you folks will still need to wear gloves and hairnets as safety precautions. These boxes ain’t super heavy, but they ain’t super light either. So handle everything with care. Follow me into the stock room, please.” Explained an employee. She led the volunteer group into a deceptively large room filled with shelves and shelves of items for the homeless. “You’ll do everything in groups of six. Mister Kastro here will teach everything else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon’s mind wandered during the man’s instructions. Luckily the golden boy was quick to grasp the pattern of things and fell into routine with the other volunteers. The hours dragged on as Gon repeatedly tucked foodstuffs into boxes and sealed them up. The pace was a bit monotonous for the energetic boy, but the feeling of doing a good deed made it all worthwhile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> monotonous. Until a disruptive clatter shattered the momentum of the room. All working groups paused their efforts and glanced around curiously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my GOD!” A woman shrieked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Help! Someone call an ambulance!” Bawled a different voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A person’s been fucking MURDERED!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s MISTER KASTRO!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chaos </span>
  <em>
    <span>erupted</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Men and women began running out of the room, packages forgotten, in such a haste that it could be compared to a stampede. A crowd formed and continued to grow at the room’s sole doorway, people shoving one another in order to escape the unforeseen crime scene. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Panicked screams echoed across the room; some yelling for their group mates, others demanding calmness, and a few simply calling for immediate aid to the man whose body was now laying in a pool of rich blood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Disregarding Mito’s ushering, Gon dashed over to the fallen instructor. Sure enough, a thin slit was made across his jugular vein, dark blood steadily pumping out of his throat and coloring the stone tiles of the floor. A few volunteers were pressing a white cloth to the victim’s — to Mister </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kastro’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> — neck, but his lack of thrashing indicated it was too late. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who… who? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who</span>
  </em>
  <span> did it?” Gon whimpered. He whipped his head around, but there was no person nor weapon in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Nobody n-noticed until he fell.” Answered one of the volunteers nearby. Out of the corner of his eye, Gon noticed the hesitation of a small figure hidden several shelves back. Immediately and without thinking, Gon sprinted after the masked person. And Gon was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even faster than Killua sometimes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it was when the dark purple hood slipped downwards that Gon saw the flash of silver hair and blanched skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was no longer than a </span>
  <em>
    <span>second </span>
  </em>
  <span>that the person’s head turned backwards, but that second stretched longer than Gon’s entire day. Everything was slowed down, like a dramatic movie moment. Because the face Gon saw was a face he was intimately familiar with. A face he knew better than his own. A face he felt an immense longing and caring for. The most beautiful face he had ever known.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gon’s next word was whispered, weighed down with hurt and confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Killua?” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>First things first: happy (late) birthday Killua!!! I feel kinda bad posting this chapter right after Killua’s birthday since it isn’t exactly the happiest time for our favorite Zoldyck :/</p><p>Also, I realized that Mito has had a lot of scene-time so far, however she’ll have a bit smaller of a role from here on out. </p><p>And that’s all for now. I hope everybody enjoyed this chapter! Thank you to all those who left kudos or comments, they’re the best motivator for me!! :)</p><p>I hope everyone has a wonderful week! Until next time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The distance between Gon and Killua grows, a new character makes an appearance, and one rescue leads to another.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Killua?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gon saw his reflection mirrored in a pair of eyes brighter than the ocean. He saw the troubled expression those eyes were making. He saw the smear of red on the left eyelid, slowly dripping down the face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Killua’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And although time had slowed down the very moment the two best friends recognized each other, it picked up again with merciless speed. In an instant, Killua was gone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gon wasn’t as fast as Killua, but he was determined. Sometimes, an ounce of determination is all it takes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The nature-boy followed the wisps of silver hair throughout aisles of stored goods. Toothbrushes, towels, canned soup, jackets, they all blurred together as Gon focused entirely on the single being. Millions of questions, confusion, and pain lingered in Gon’s brain, but he knew that whatever had happened, Killua was not to blame.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Never </span>
  </em>
  <span>to blame. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>why?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Killua, on the other hand, felt as though his heart, small and still developing, was being crushed. He could pinpoint the exact </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gon recognized him, as it was also the exact second Killua’s energetic best friend exhibited disappointment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’ll never be my friend again. He’ll hate me forever.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But if those thoughts were true, why was Gon chasing after him? </span>
  <em>
    <span>To hurt you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The little voice in Killua’s head whispered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a brief time, Killua thought it possible to live an ordinary life; playing with friends, complaining about school, </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, being </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy…</span>
  </em>
  <span> But then Killua recalled his eldest brother’s words from many months ago. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re weak, Killua.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re a killer.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even Palm — Palm who had no knowledge of even the most surface-level Zoldyck family secrets — agreed with Illumi.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re a freak.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am, aren’t I? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Killua didn’t deserve Gon’s friendship or easy acceptance. Nobody really did, but Killua least of all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please Killua! Don’t run away. I wouldn’t—” Gon hesitated. He wouldn’t what? “I wouldn’t ever leave you alone. No matter what — I promise!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please Killua, wait for me.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go away.” A cool, clipped voice echoed back. The sheer lack of empathy or joy in those words froze Gon’s legs. He couldn’t push them forward no matter how hard he tried.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So the nature-boy did something he rarely did. He used </span>
  <em>
    <span>words.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “How can Killua expect me to go away when he won't say why he’s leaving?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Gon would never know if the silver-haired boy had heard him, because he was gone. Vanished, just as he had days prior after the fight with Palm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you run, Killua?” Gon whispered. He placed a trembling hand, still encased in a blue disposable glove, over his heart. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You should never have to run from me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>Hours later, when Mito demanded to know where Gon had run off to in the midst of a </span><em><span>murder scene</span></em><span>, the golden boy shrugged. Gon might have been lacking in the school smart department, but he wasn’t </span><em><span>truly</span></em> <em><span>stupid.</span></em><span> Killua, somehow, was connected to the frightening death back at the homeless shelter. The nature-boy wasn’t going to place his friend at risk in any way. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno, I just wanted to help Mister Kastro…” He sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>convincing. Not.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why were you nowhere near the man?! Gon, you’re killing me here… oh, that was poor word choice. You’re not telling me the truth, that much is obvious.” Mito glared down at her nephew with both hands on her hips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gon glanced at his aunt sheepishly but refrained from saying anything else. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t some petty talking-to Gon!” She chastised frustratedly. “A man died and you disappeared! What was I supposed to think? The last time someone disappeared from me—” She choked on her last words. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ging.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gon was feeling some guilt. Not enough to disclose his sighting of Killua, but… “Aunt Mito, I really am sorry. I just wasn’t thinking—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s it — you </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> think!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“—</span>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>I wanted to help. I went around looking for bandages, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s all?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I guess I understand now that I should’ve just stuck around to where all the people were… I promise I’ll never do anything like that again.” Killua held out his right pinky, big golden eyes looking pleadingly into his Aunt’s.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You better promise.” Mito begrudgingly stated, wrapping her finger around Gon’s. After a moment of silence, “We should probably go find Palm now. She isn’t here with us for much longer.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Gon agreed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mito knew her nephew was hiding something. Not only did he avoid Mito’s eyes when justifying his whereabouts, but it was uncharacteristic for Gon to be this quiet. Of course, the boy had just witnessed a death more horrific than anything Mito had ever encountered in her life. A neck ripped at by a knife… so much blood… She debated sending both Gon and Palm to a little therapy to help forget the day’s traumatic events, but they both seemed relatively stable. More so than Mito herself, even. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you were here, Ging,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mito thought in a mix of bitterness and nostalgia, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You would be telling me to worry less. But that boy of yours… Some days you two are just too alike. How could I not worry?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile Palm was lounging in the Freecss’ sunroom with a canvas and tube of paint in hand. She was already near finished with her painting, but something felt missing. Perched behind Palm’s canvas was Killua’s recent artwork. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A glistening blue lake surrounded by overbearing willow trees. In certain lighting Palm supposed it was pretty. But in the center of the lake was a fish — Palm didn’t know what kind — floating with its eyes missing. Beautiful swirls of dark red encircled the creature, like some sort of halo. Who draws that sort of thing? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Super </span>
  </em>
  <span>weird. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yet secretly, Palm envied how talented the Zoldyck boy was with art. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The little albino freak can paint, I’ll give him that. Even if his paintings are strange.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her thoughts were interrupted by the footsteps of Gon and Mito, an odd silence in place of their usual playful conversation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool painting!” Mito smiled. Gon nodded in agreement, but Palm wasn’t even sure he had spared her canvas a glance. As </span>
  <em>
    <span>always,</span>
  </em>
  <span> his eyes were drawn to Killua’s. Always Killua’s. Palm was aware she wasn’t the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting </span>
  </em>
  <span>playmate, but Killua Zoldyck? She sighed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Miss Freecss. It isn’t finished yet though.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well it looks great, sweetheart.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You look like you want to say something else…” Palm murmured.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Er, yes. You’re right. It’s about earlier today.” Mito paused and rubbed at the crease between her eyebrows. “Are you holding up okay?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” Palm shrugged. “I never actually saw Mister Kastro… And my aunt has cast hundreds of hexes before so I’m kind of used to that sort of thing. She even casts hexes with the power to steal someone’s life, so Mister Kastro probably had something similar to that placed on him. It was really quite stupid of all the other volunteers to run away in chaos like that, though. My father always says ‘staying in line is the proper design’ and I like to adhere to his advice completely…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And there she goes again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand, Palm. Thank you. You’re a good kid.” Mito gave the tall girl a short hug, stiff but well-meaning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a good person too, Miss Freecss. I’m glad I chose to stay with you and Gon.” The two women carried on their conversation (Palm doing most of the talking) in a much lighter manner. Gon, his head still swirling from earlier events, quietly crept out of the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the setting sun, the golden boy was on a mission, and that mission was to begin right then. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Find Killua.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With his yellow and brown wicker backpack and a bundling coat, Gon set out for the Zoldyck manor.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I’ll get scolded real badly for this later.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He mused, not bothered by that fact in the slightest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least I left Aunt Mito a note.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Although said note consisted of very few words that read: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Going for a walk will be home soon, Gon.</span>
  </em>
  <span> When he had a goal in mind, Gon spared little room for anything else. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, the nature-boy’s clunky green boots began trudging through the snow-covered Denotra forest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can’t run away forever, Killua.</span>
  </em>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gon’s plan was actually far less intricate than it had sounded in his head. Really, he just marched to the top of Kukuroo Hill by dipping behind barren trees and icicle bushes. Once he reached his destination… Well, Gon had always been good at </span>
  <em>
    <span>improvising</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A dense oak tree came into Gon’s path, and he recognized it as the one he and Killua had often met up at. He also remembered that the tree was where he first discovered Killua. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Killua was crying then.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gon thought. He suddenly realized that he had never learned </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> the silver-haired boy was crying. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Killua was a mystery, and Gon felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The recent distance between the two boys had brought pain, for Gon wasn’t sure how he had ever enjoyed himself without his wintry best friend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If Killua and I stop talking…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No. Gon would not allow his mind to imagine that scenario. He was here to save Killua — from what, he wasn’t yet sure — and he would do so bravely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gon straightened himself out, adjusted his backpack straps, and took about one step forward before he felt a presence nearby. It wasn’t the same dreadful air Gon had felt when he first interacted with Killua’s brother. Instead, Gon sensed curiosity. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is someone there?” The nature-boy called out, though he already knew the answer to his inquiry. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, but Gon liked a little action), there was no response. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Again, Gon projected, “Who is there? I don’t mean any harm. I’m just looking for my friend.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Friend?” A feminine voice squeaked. It came from Gon’s left. Or was it his right? The boy was beginning to feel confused, but also intrigued. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, um. His name is Killua… He lives around here…” Was it okay for Gon to say he knew Killua? He </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hoped so. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know Master Killua had any friends.” Said the voice. An instant later, a small, brown-skinned girl materialized in front of Gon. Her face held an expression of deep seriousness, but her grey eyes betrayed that; they were expressive and protective. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring the weird terminology for Killua, Gon said, “Yes! Well… errr. Killua isn’t allowed to have friends, I don’t think, but—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he isn’t. So if you don’t tell me why you’re really here within the next sixty seconds, I’ll have to remove you with force.” The girl then pulled out some sort of cane from behind her back. Gon assumed it was supposed to be threatening, but the girl was barely as tall as Gon, and her face and voice did little to hide her youthfulness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if sensing Gon’s thoughts, the girl said, “I’m tougher than I look. You won’t be getting past me so easily.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But rather than afraid, Gon looked excited — something that seemed to confuse and unnerve the girl. “My name is Gon. Are you one of Killua’s brothers? You two don’t look very similar.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m one of the Zoldyck butlers and I guard the estate and family from trespassers like you. Your sixty seconds are halfway up.” Gon eyed the way the girl’s thick bunches of dark hair bounced. He liked the way the strings at the tips resembled stars. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The golden boy smiled. “Killua must be lucky to have such loyal guardians.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You really know nothing about him, do you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gon’s face fell as he replied, “I guess I don’t. I promise that I really am his friend though.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The girl looked skeptical, “Master Killua doesn’t have friends. Are you from his school?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope! We met in the summer! Right here, actually. And by the way,” Gon’s cheerful tone took an abrupt change. Suddenly, the boy’s wide eyes lost their focus, darkness overtaking their typical golden color. “It doesn’t matter if you try to prevent me from going to Killua’s house. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I will get there.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Had the air thickened? Gon didn’t make any move forward, but the girl felt the instinctive need to step back. To run far, far away from this strange little boy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steadying herself, she said instead, “My name is Canary.” Gon offered no acknowledgement. Canary continued, “What is so urgent that you must see Master Killua for?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At the familiar sound of Killua’s name, Gon snapped back to attention determinedly. “Killua… um, I saw him earlier today,” Gon’s words were tinged with worry. Canary wavered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Earlier today Master Killua was — </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m not sure what I saw. Killua has been distant lately, but he’s my best friend, and I want to help him. Or at least talk to him. That’s why I came here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s late, the sun has already set.” Canary protested. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s better that way, right?” Whispered Gon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re really his best friend? Are you the reason Killua has been… ‘exploring’ so much lately?” The cane shook in the butler’s grip. Her eyes… they portrayed hope. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh, I’m guessing so.” Gon then looked pleadingly into Canary’s stormy expression. “You can get him, yeah? Please… I just want to tell him something. Please.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Both Master Killua and I could face grave consequences if I do as you’re asking,” Canary mumbled, “But I like Master Killua, and someday I want to be his friend too…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure Killua would love to have another friend, especially one as brave as you! Please.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I — Okay. Just… just wait here. Don’t move or make noise or—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“YES!” Gon jumped and threw his arms around the butler. “Oh Canary, you’re the best! I swear I’ll…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, he sure followed that warning well. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Yes, yes.” Canary said. “If Master Killua and I aren’t here in an hour, leave and don’t look back. Okay? Promise?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise! Let’s pinky swear it!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And while Canary entwined her finger with Killua’s eccentric best friend, her head had begun mapping a plan to steal Killua away for a few short hours. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The plan was, for the most part, successful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Little Kalluto happened to be scurrying around in the very hallway Canary led Killua down, but the eight-year-old promised to pretend he saw nothing. He wasn’t interested in his butler and older brother anyways, too busy creating origami animals out of paper. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And get to bed soon!” Killua had whisper-yelled, only to be dragged forward by Canary’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Faster, Master Killua.” She said. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t call me that.” Killua responded half-heartedly, knowing already that it was a futile effort to correct the butler. “This better be chocolate, cuz mother and father are already mad enough about today.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You did just fine today, Master Killua.” Canary answered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell that to the burn marks on my palms.” The Zoldyck boy mumbled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Inconspicuously, Canary lightened her hold on Killua’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the butler shoved her way through the Zoldyck manor’s kitchens, Killua realized they were in fact </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting chocolate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe they wanna inspect my burn marks a little more? Give me more cream?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Killua rolled his eyes. His family was made up of the kinds of people who’d break his arm and then give him a cast and a lollipop, as if that made up for it. A cast doesn’t dismiss the pain of a fractured bone, it only masks it. And that’s who the Zoldycks were. Evil people wearing angelic masks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No… Canary is being too frantic for some simple healing medicine. Wait? Isn’t she on outdoor guard duty tonight? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Killua felt his confusion and worry grow as the girl tugged on his hand softly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Quickly now.” She said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Past the kitchens were the servant corridors, and years of playing hide and seek had given Killua a fairly accurate sense of direction within them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why here?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the briefest of moments, Killua’s thoughts drifted to his sister. But Canary would have told him if it were something related to </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just to be safe, Killua asked, “Is this about Alluka?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Canary’s features softened, though her pace never slowed. “No. I promise it is not.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The servant corridors were dingy and raw-looking compared to the rest of the Zoldyck manor. Wooden floorboards creaked underfoot, the occasional drop of water fell from the ceiling, and the echoes of their steps all added to the eerie mood. Secret doorways led to almost every room in the mansion, though most were rarely used. They passed by them in a flurry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually Killua lost track of where they were, and only then did he focus entirely on the person guiding him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like most of their butlers, Canary was loyal, steadfast, and a true force to be reckoned with (Killua learned that the hard way). And also like most of their butlers, Killua trusted Canary. More so than he did any of his own family members, at least. Though Grandpa Zoldyck and Alluka might’ve been exceptions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Canary was also close to Killua’s own age, but he didn’t think the two were actually friends. They looked out for each other, and that was enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The corridor excursion came to a close as the two arrived at a door. It was small and identical to every other door in the hallway. However, when Canary pushed it open, the two were greeted by a blast of cool air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, I see. one of the wall panels in the rose garden, then. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The remaining part of our journey will be outside.” Canary stated.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured as much. Especially considering you shoved a coat at me on our way out of my room.” Killua chuckled sarcastically under his breath. This, of course, earned him a light slap on his arm. “Ouch!” He complained. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Be quiet! We’re almost there!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Butlers shouldn’t slap the people they work for.” Killua grumbled. He continued running after Canary.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like mice, the two children pranced around rows of desolate flower bushes and frosty trees. The Dentora Woods encompassing Kukuroo Hill came closer and closer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, they arrived at the snow-laced oak tree. At that point, Killua had gained a fairly good idea of what might be happening.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But nothing could have prepared him for the two arms — nestled beneath layers of winter clothing yet probably still tanned — that instantly swathed Killua.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Warmth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sunshine filled the otherwise moon-lit January air. Optimism surrounded Killua’s negativity and self-doubt and destroyed it in one fell swoop. The power of a hug from a friend overcame all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You always tell me I’m the stupid one,” A familiar voice rang, “But sometimes Killua does stupid stuff too.” Those beautiful arms squeezed tighter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” It came out choked and whispered, depleted by years of meaningless apologies and ignored pleas. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, and I forgive you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tears graced Killua’s pale cheeks, now red from the warmth of Gon; a contrast to the frigid weather. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m always crying around you.” Killua said, using Gon’s coat to muffle his words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Killua. It’s not.” Gon pulled out of the hug just enough to stare into Killua’s eyes — incredible, enigmatic blue eyes. “Crying makes us strong. The sky cries all the time, and the sky is amazing! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>amazing.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I—” </span>
  <em>
    <span>don't know what to say, evidently. How does one respond to that, Gon? Would you know? Would anyone? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Would it be wrong if I called you stupid again?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When it comes to Killua, I’m not stupid.” Was Gon’s reply.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you — don’t you want some kind of explanation?” Killua forced himself to say. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I do. But only when Killua is ready.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>God. This boy is amazing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Could I maybe… um… stay with you tonight?” The Zoldyck child wasn’t even sure if he spoke loud enough for anyone to hear, but Gon immediately nodded. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Anytime, Killua.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Canary watched the two boys embrace with genuine affection spreading across her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe this strange friend of Master Killua’s isn’t so bad, if he can comfort Master Killua like that.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Torn between needing to speak to Killua and not wanting to break up his and Gon’s moment, Canary was grateful when the silver-haired boy moved to talk with her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Would it be too much to ask you to cover for me?” He asked. Canary glanced at his hand — the same hand that had blistered and bubbled hours earlier — twisted with Gon’s own. Killua noticed her look and quickly added, “I’ll be fine, I know Gon and his family. They’re nice.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I’ll cover for you as best I can.” Canary replied. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. You’re a good butler, Canary. And… you’re a good friend, too.” Killua’s lopsided smile caused fluttering in the girl’s stomach, but she ignored it and bowed before the Zoldyck boy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Try and be back before breakfast, Master Killua.” She said. When Canary stood up straight again, the two best friends were already gone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smiling sadly, Canary turned around and gazed into the trees. “He’s gonna be safe, Gotoh.” She called. A little rustling in the distance, and then Canary found herself alone once again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So your family owns casinos, but they’re actually just a front? A front for what?” Gon pondered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Killua debated how to answer that. He could lie… but Gon wouldn’t forgive him if he were to ever discover the truth. And somehow, Killua knew Gon wouldn’t fault him for his family’s ill practices. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s bad stuff Gon. I’m afraid you’ll… I dunno.” Killua grew solemn. He hid his eyes behind his silver bangs and whispered, “If I told you the truth, you probably would realize that it’s a stupid idea to be my friend.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gon’s features softened. He reached out a sun-kissed hand to brush the hair away from Killua’s face. “Nothing could make me regret being your friend. I’ll always be on your side, Killua.” And magically, as though time itself had slowed down for this very moment, Gon pressed a kiss to Killua’s forehead. “Always.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Later that night, as Killua lay awake in Gon’s bed — the nature-boy still hugging him tightly, even while asleep — Killua considered his family’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>true</span>
  </em>
  <span> business.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Drug sales and contract hits.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Assassins.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not necessarily the mafia, per say, just a family that held many assets to said world of organized crime. A highly profitable and low-risk business. The kind of business that all Zoldyck children were raised to partake in and, someday, run themselves. And it just so happened that Killua Zoldyck, being the most intelligent and athletically gifted of the Zoldyck boys, was proclaimed the next heir. A position any other child, be them a Zoldyck or not, would take pride in. Killua? Not so much. Not at all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The whimsical ten-year-old wanted only to go on adventures and make friends.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>unusual</span>
  </em>
  <span> desires for a kid, but all the other Zoldyck boys preferred their family’s more… </span>
  <em>
    <span>shady</span>
  </em>
  <span> dealings. Even Kalluto, the youngest of the siblings, stuck to his parents like glue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, there was also Killua’s fourth sibling and younger sister, but her existence was somewhat of a… precarious matter. Killua loved her deeply, but it often seemed he was the only one in his family capable of such emotions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With all the duties and expectations laid on the silver-haired child, he found himself at a crossroads. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you knew what I really was, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Killua thought, watching Gon’s chest rise and fall, his long and dark eyelashes fluttering, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Would you still want to stay by my side?</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is what happens when I try to write my way through writer’s block... *cries* </p>
<p>I know this update isn’t my best work, but we are almost through with this first arc, and things start getting more interesting after. Lots of new characters will be introduced. </p>
<p>Also FYI — I have a lot of college work I need to start doing (I’m behind, oops!), so updates may slow down a bit. I will still do my best to post weekly!</p>
<p>As always, thank you to everyone for the comments and kudos! I wouldn’t be this far in the story story without them :))</p>
<p>I hope everyone has a wonderful week! Until next time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>